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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684845">Pacify Part 4: Sanctum</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickenpets/pseuds/Chickenpets'>Chickenpets</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pacify [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Art, BDSM, Battle of Hogwarts, Biting, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Bottom Harry Potter, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Friendship, Hilarity, Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Implied/Referenced Torture, Love, M/M, Meditation, Obsession, Occlumency, Pacifyverse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Redemption, Scars, Sex Magic, Soulmates, Top Severus Snape, Violence, Voldemort dies horribly, War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:41:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>91,009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickenpets/pseuds/Chickenpets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>NOW WITH ART!!</p><p>Sanctum<br/>1. A sacred or holy place<br/>2. An inviolably private place or retreat</p><p> </p><p>Harry wished Severus had drawn blood. Wished he’d made a scar. A token to take with him into war, like the scratches he’d left on Severus’ back after the hearing. He almost scoffed to think of that, now. The Governors. Lupin. The snatchers. Fools, all of them. As if anything on earth could keep Severus from him now. Severus himself had said it, ages ago. No grave, no pyre, not even the end of the world. Not even the falling sky. Nothing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Potter/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pacify [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595650</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1507</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Property of Severus Snape</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Pacify One-shots and Au's<br/>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1786204</p><p>Pacify Playlist:<br/>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0rf51eMOz60O5WLQLlJJ40?si=lumjtZAaQLCYUBQJmwzVBw</p><p>Pacify Doodles:<br/>https://www.deviantart.com/chickenpets</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Professor Snape very graciously gave Draco an incredibly incriminating set of wounds to take with him for Easter Holidays. He even invited Draco to his rooms to do it, which was uncharacteristically charitable. Draco had been practically <em> begging </em> for a bit of attention before Christmas, and the man hadn’t even looked at him. But this time, he sent a little note with the time and place, and Draco appeared, and Snape opened the door for him, and Draco rather wondered what had happened to put him in such a good mood.</p><p>“Good morning, Draco,” Snape said, gesturing at him to enter. “When are you departing for the Manor?”</p><p>“Good morning, Sir,” Draco answered. “My floo is in two hours.” Snape closed the door behind them, and Draco looked around, interested. He’d never been in Snape’s rooms before. They were pretty nice. Spacious. Lots of wood.</p><p>They were a little friendlier than he’d been expecting, too, particularly the overstuffed sofa and persian rug in front of the hearth. That setup looked almost inviting, despite the fact that it belonged to the terrifying Severus Snape. It wasn’t at all like Snape’s old office as Potions Master. That had been forbidding by design, with stone floors and stone walls and an assortment of grotesque specimens in jars. This, though. </p><p>“Very good. Are you ready?”</p><p>Draco turned around to look at him. “Yes. My face, first?”</p><p>“If you like.” </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Close your eyes.” </p><p>Draco closed his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Professor Snape had quite an arm for someone with such refined hands, and Draco knew as soon as he’d been struck that the mark would be livid. Which was, of course, precisely the point. He was getting better at not getting knocked down, though, which was a small dignity.</p><p>“Thank you,” he said as he righted himself, touching his cheekbone gently with the pads of his fingers. Snape must have caught him just right with a knuckle, as it was already starting to swell. The man really was very efficient at making marks. “Shall I take off my shirt?”</p><p>“Just undo the front, today.” Draco nodded, and shrugged out of his robes, laying them over the back of one of the dining chairs, and then took off his tie, and started on his buttons. He’d only gotten about half-way down his chest, though, when Snape stilled his hands, and he looked back up. </p><p>“Sir?” he asked.</p><p>“That’s enough,” Snape answered, and took hold of his jaw, tilting his head to the side to expose the pale skin of his throat. “Deep breath, now.” </p><p>Draco took a deep breath, and had just enough time to wonder why in God’s name Snape was being so nice about this before his nails dug in and raked hard down the side of his neck towards his chest. </p><p>
  <em> FUCK that hurts.  </em>
</p><p>The noise that escaped him wasn’t quite a yelp, and he pressed his lips together against it. Severus Snape did not like <em> noises. </em> Or, at least, he’d given Draco that impression. Which was kind of odd, really. If the other Deatheaters were to be believed, Snape should enjoy begging and crying - weeping, and pleading, and submission. But he didn’t seem to enjoy those things at all, really. </p><p>
  <em> Stop thinking that. </em>
</p><p>“Sorry,” he said.</p><p>“That’s quite alright. One more. Deep breath.” Draco inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut, and forced himself not to flinch back as Snape’s fingernails dug in again. It hurt the worst over the Sectumsempra scars, and Draco could feel him trying to avoid hitting them. And that was considerate, too, wasn’t it? Very… considerate. For a sadist.</p><p>
  <em> Draco. You spent seventeen hours fixing this. Focus. </em>
</p><p>“That should be sufficient to last you a few days. If you have any trouble, firecall my office. It should still be connected to the Manor.” </p><p>Draco swallowed, and when he opened his eyes, Snape had already turned away. He seemed to be waiting for Draco to right his clothing, so Draco did, and Snape stayed with his back resolutely turned until his tie was back around his neck and his buttons fastened all the way to the top. When he turned back around, his eyes were almost… soft. </p><p>“Are you alright?” Snape asked.</p><p>Draco had never in his life seen an expression like that on Snape’s face. Not even when he’d been the favorite. Not even when Snape used to come to dinner at the Manor and drink with his parents. Not before Snape tortured his father, or before Draco was sent to school with his terrible errand. Not ever. And seeing it now, it was suddenly almost impossible for Draco to believe Snape really had done what the others said he’d done. </p><p>But, no. Draco did believe it. He had to.</p><p><em> Focus. </em>  </p><p>
  <em> Control your brain. </em>
</p><p>He believed it. Every sordid, awful word. Absolute, incontrovertible truth. No matter what sort of compassion Snape was showing him now.</p><p>“I - yes. Yes, of course,” Draco answered, lifting his chin a little to hide his confusion. He thought about trying to make a joke - something about getting used to the pain, or knowing how to obey, or something like that, but he couldn’t think of anything he thought Snape might find funny. Certainly this situation wasn’t funny, and this particular Professor was very hard to deflect, anyway. </p><p>Snape’s black eyes narrowed as they traveled over him, and his brow furrowed.</p><p>“Would you like me to check your Occlumency before you go?” he asked.</p><p>Draco blinked. </p><p>
  <em> Check my Occlumency? What face was I making? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Let him do it. If he finds something traitorous maybe he’ll help you cover it up.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Holy FUCK. Control your brain! Sweet merciful Merlin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Say yes before he changes his mind. </em>
</p><p>“If you would, please. Yes.” </p><p>Professor Snape gestured to the sofa, and Draco sat on the very edge and folded his hands, and Snape sat down, too, on the other side, and laid his wand on his thigh. </p><p>“Anything in particular you’d like me to push for?” </p><p>Draco looked at his long, pale index finger as it lay against the wood, took a deep breath, and met his eyes. “No, Sir,” he said.</p><p>“Very well. <em> Legilimens.” </em></p><p>He sat very still as Snape scoured his barriers for flaws, and picked through his thoughts, exploring his exposed ideas about his father, and his mother, and the Deatheaters, and Severus Snape himself, and Potter, and the war, and the Dark Lord. He could see flashes of what Snape was looking at, and relaxed just a little. They looked ok. Hatred for his fallen father, love and fear for his mother, respect for the Deatheaters above him in rank. Terror of Severus Snape, and disgust at what he’d done to Potter. A wish for a victorious end to the war. Reverence, and love, and worship for the Dark Lord. It looked pretty good. At least the parts that he could see. </p><p>What a relief. He’d been practicing a lot, hours every day, and had been trying very hard to do what Snape told him to do - to stop his dangerous thoughts before completing them - and it seemed he’d been at least relatively successful, for when Snape finished with him, he nodded.</p><p>“Your barriers are intact, but not very strong,” he said. “If you fail in your upkeep even a single day it might be enough to sign your death warrant. You must practice. Morning and evening.”</p><p>“Yes, sir. I will,” Draco answered, blinking hard as Snape’s magical presence withdrew. He always felt shaky and exposed after being subjected to Legilimency, like he’d been stripped naked and cut open, and it was a little worse than usual right then. The throbbing under his eye, and the stinging heat where he’d been scratched were not helping at all. He had to go before the tremor of weakness he felt got worse. “Thank you, Sir.” </p><p>Snape just nodded again, and looked away, but just as his head turned, Draco had a thought. It was one he was trying desperately not to have anywhere in his brain, but after Snape’s hands on him, and the inspection, and the <em> kindness, </em>it just popped out. There was something about the gesture, or the tone of his voice, or the look in his eyes as he averted them that triggered it. </p><p>
  <em> This man is not a Deatheater.  </em>
</p><p>He slammed his mind shut.</p><p>
  <em> SHIT. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Very good, Draco. You may go.”</p><p>Draco stood immediately. “Yes, Sir,” he said. Professor Snape just looked at him, and nodded again, and Draco turned and walked very calmly out of his rooms and into the corridor, and then sprinted straight to the prefect's bathroom like he was being chased by a dog. He needed to crush that thought, and bury it, and patch himself up, and he only had about an hour before he was due home. If that was enough time, it would be barely. So, he hurtled inside the bathroom, locked and warded the door, and sat down on the tiles with his back in a corner.</p><p>He closed his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus sighed and got up to wash his hands in his bathroom sink. Scrubbing at his nails, and the palms of his hands, and then rinsing them twice with hot water, he tried not to worry about what might happen when the summer holidays came. One slap in the face would not be enough to protect Draco for all that time. He’d probably be expected back at the Manor as resident abuser and would have to do this a lot more often. Lay claim to Draco every night, as he had before. Allow him to sit at his feet during leisure time, and beside him at meals. Hurt him, and hit him, and posture at enjoying the way he cast his eyes towards the floor.</p><p>Or, Severus might be dead by then, of course. Or the war might be over. Or some unlikely circumstance might have arisen which allowed him to take Harry to Brazil under assumed names. Who knew? </p><p>Now that was an idea. Harry had a bit of olive in his complexion. He might take color in the sun very well. And certainly he would look lovely in the surf - or laid out on a towel on the beach. Maybe he would freckle. That would be charming. </p><p>He shook his head and laughed at his own madness, toweling the water off his hands. Silly to think of such a thing. Even if the image of Harry Potter darkened by the sun in a tropical paradise was one for the ages. </p><p>Harry Potter on the beach… </p><p>Severus had already had him on the beach. Had him <em> twice, </em>and left him staggering, only the night before.</p><p>He sat back down on the sofa and pulled up his sleeve, considering the silver. It already felt a year since they’d been together, and he rather wanted to assure himself that Harry’s sudden reversal hadn’t been a dream. Though, of course, he knew it hadn’t been. He’d been up half the night redoing his mental wards and fighting not to be distracted by his own memories as he socked them away. But he was fairly certain he could maintain his barriers through a bit of light conversation. Surely that wouldn’t be too difficult.</p><p>“Good morning,” he said into his bracelet. </p><p><em> [Morning] </em> appeared, followed, after a short pause, by <em> [Sir] </em></p><p>“How are you feeling?”</p><p>
  <em> [Good. I can hardly walk] </em>
</p><p>Severus pressed his lips together, suddenly severely not certain that he could maintain his barriers through Harry’s idea of <em> light conversation. </em> “Now, now,” he said. “I’ve only just packed everything back into place. Don’t go sabotaging me with visions of your naked body.” Naked, on his back, laid out on that awful rug.</p><p>
  <em> [How about painfully sexual memories of your voice? That’s what I’m having] </em>
</p><p>Immediately, a hairline fracture crackled across the floor of Severus' mind, and out of it floated a desperate little, <em> ‘please.’ </em>He shivered, and the hairs on his arms stood up, and then a little more leaked out. Not a word that time, though. A sensation. Harry, straddling him, holding him to the ground with both fists.</p><p>He took a deep breath and pressed gently down on the disturbance in his seals to hold them steady. “Harry,” he said. “I am, unfortunately, quite serious. If you keep speaking to me that way it’ll take hours to repair.”</p><p><em> [Sorry] </em> a pause. <em> [Didn’t know I was so destructive] </em></p><p>“You are an unstoppable force.”</p><p>
  <em> [Good thing I’m so obedient] </em>
</p><p>“Harry. No.”</p><p>
  <em> [Oh. I’m sorry. I just. I miss you already] </em>
</p><p>“And I, you. Perhaps I might notify you when I’m next scheduled to maintain my Occlumency, so you can fulfil your need to say despicable things all at once.”</p><p>
  <em> [That sounds fun] </em>
</p><p>Severus laughed<em>. </em>It did sound fun. “Indeed.”</p><p>There was a short silence, before <em> [what does it feel like?] </em> appeared, and for a moment, Severus could not imagine what ‘it,’ might be. Or, at least, he could not imagine ‘it,’ right then. Not without sabotaging <em> himself </em> with visions of Harry’s naked body. But, he’d told Harry no more of that sort of talk, so ‘it,’ must be something else. </p><p>“What, when the barriers fail?” he guessed.</p><p>
  <em> [Yeah. Does it hurt?] </em>
</p><p>Severus spun his bracelet once around his wrist, considering the question. It certainly didn’t feel good, but it wasn’t exactly pain, either. “I suppose it does hurt, in a way.” </p><p>
  <em> [What sort of way?] </em>
</p><p>He thought about that. The sensation was hard to pin down. It was a pressure, but more than that. It was a weakness, but more than that, too. It was like trying to hold back the sea. Like ice bursting the seals of a bottle. Like a deadly poison, overboiling, melting the constraints of its cauldron. Like pressure, and tension, and weakness, and heat, and cold, and indescribable depth.</p><p>
  <em> Like loving someone you cannot keep. </em>
</p><p>“Let me ask you something,” he said. “How did you feel when you found the yarrow I left for you?”</p><p>
  <em> [Like I was going to explode] </em>
</p><p>“That’s how it feels.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Ok, Draco. Fix it. Fix it. </em>
</p><p>He inhaled, held it in, and then exhaled very, very slowly. He knew perfectly well how hard it was to manipulate your own thoughts while in emotional turmoil, and to try it like that now with only an hour would be a foolish waste of time. He had to calm down, first. Pack up the fear. </p><p>He breathed, deeply, slowly, until his heart rate fell. Then, resting his head back against the wall, he turned inward.</p><p>
  <em> Ok. Snape first. Fix that first. Then do yourself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Here we go. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Severus Snape is an unspeakable sadist and he’s hurting you every chance he gets. He’s vicious, and brutal, and you’ve had to go to the hospital wing more than once. He raped Harry Potter for a year. Tortured him. Drugged him. For a year. Right under the Headmaster’s very nose, because that is just how good of a liar he is. He had Harry Potter down in the dungeons for a year. </em>
</p><p>Harry Potter, down in the dungeons.</p><p>Harry… Potter… with Snape. In the dungeons. Screaming for mercy. Yes.</p><p>Harry Potter screaming for Snape to come back for him.</p><p>
  <em> NO. </em>
</p><p>Draco would never forget that sound in his life. The way Potter had screamed Snape’s name that night, out in the grounds. Screamed it, like he was being torn in half. Screaming, <em> ‘Severus,’ </em>like he would never say another word.</p><p>Draco scrunched up his face and then relaxed it again, breathing slowly.</p><p>
  <em> No, Draco. No. Snape was just controlling him somehow, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything. Professor Snape is a master manipulator. He’s the premiere Potioneer in the Dark Lord’s ranks. He could make anyone scream for him that way. A potion or two, a poison, a narcotic, a hypnotic. That’s all it would take. That was why Potter was calling for him. Stupid to think anything else. Insane. Severus Snape is loyal to the Dark Lord, and he toyed with Potter to weaken him. </em>
</p><p>Against his will an image flashed into his mind. Harry Potter, with his chin in hand, gazing up at Snape in Defense class like he had never seen anything so wonderful in his life. And then another - Potter, white as chalk, standing over him with his wand in his hand, looking down at Draco bleeding out on the floor. And then Snape appearing, out of <em> thin air, </em> and seizing Potter’s shoulders, and saying… <em> ‘are you alright?’  </em></p><p>Not, <em> ‘what have you done,’ </em> or, <em> ‘explain yourself, Potter,’ </em> but… <em> ‘Harry - are you alright?’ </em></p><p>Harry.</p><p>And then, what? He’d saved Draco’s life and taken Potter down into the dungeons, drugged him, and raped him? Tied him down and whipped him to within an inch of consciousness? And then, while Potter was down there, bleeding onto his sheets, Snape came back up to the hospital wing to intimidate Draco into never trying to cast the cruciatus on Potter again? Come on. Draco was only getting a tiny fraction of the violence the Deatheaters laid at Professor Snape’s feet, and he could hardly look the man in the eye. But Potter - Potter stared at him… fearless. For months and months. Staring at him like… he… Like <em> they - </em></p><p>He seized his head, digging his fingernails into his scalp.  </p><p>
  <em> Stop it. Stop. If you can’t control this, you’re going to get Snape killed. You’re going to get yourself killed.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> [Severus?] </em>
</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>
  <em> [Where are you, now?] </em>
</p><p>“In my rooms. Draco’s just left.”</p><p>
  <em> [Yeah?] </em>
</p><p>“Yes. Easter break began this morning. He has to return to the Manor.”</p><p>
  <em> [How is he doing?] </em>
</p><p>“As well as can be expected, I suppose.”</p><p>
  <em> [Can I ask you something else?] </em>
</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>
  <em> [If you can’t answer, just tell me that, ok?] </em>
</p><p>“I will. What is it?”</p><p>
  <em> [Whose side is Draco on?] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Draco let out a snarl of frustration, pressing his forehead into his knees, and then forced himself to relax again and rest back against the tiles. </p><p>
  <em> Control it. Control yourself. </em>
</p><p>He unclenched his jaw, and smoothed out his brow.</p><p>
  <em> Calm. Focused. You’re an Occlumens. You know how. </em>
</p><p>He turned inward again. His false narrative had to be good enough to cover his real thoughts, but it just <em> wasn’t. </em> He had to reinforce it. Double it. Strengthen it. Attach emotions to it. He had to hook on fear and pain and humiliation like silk in a spiderweb, to keep the threads together. Knitting the pictures to the thoughts to the feelings in a delicate, intricate network, just like Snape told him. Aunt Bella had never described anything like that to him when she’d taught him to shield his mind. She made it sound more like building a fortress. But that wasn’t enough. Brute force was not enough. </p><p>Draco might have thought his Occlumency was strong when he’d first come to Snape for help, but he’d been wrong. It was weak then, and it was weak now<em> , </em> and this was far different than playacting as a sex slave, or presenting a blank wall to anyone that tried to invade his head. The thoughts he had in his mind now weren’t just dangerous, they were fucking <em> fatal - </em> all of them - and it was impossible to fold them up any smaller, but they were still so <em> huge, </em>and he was going to die, and so was Professor Snape. Draco was going to repay his shelter with incompetence, and they were both going to die, because if the Dark Lord so much as glanced into his head now, he would find a well of disgust and hate so deep that he’d peel Draco’s mind apart like an orange to find out what else he had in there. He’d bleed out every last drop of truth, and feed his remains to Nagini. And then he’d come for Snape.</p><p>
  <em> Stop thinking that way. Come on, Draco. You can do this. You can. You’re the best in your house. You’re a Malfoy. You blocked Snape and Dumbledore both during your sixth year, and you can block the Dark Lord, too.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“His own.”</p><p>There was a long pause, and Severus imagined that Harry might be sitting on his bunk in the tent with his legs curled under. He might even be wearing Severus’ cloak right then, but even if he wasn’t, he certainly was wearing Severus’ marks. Severus wished he could see them - and that he’d given Harry more. He wished he’d absolutely covered his wayward lover with the evidence of his passion before leaving him again, so that everyone around him would know that Harry Potter belonged to someone.</p><p>His wards shifted slightly and he turned his attention away from that line of thinking. Harry was speaking, anyway, and he looked down to see.</p><p>
  <em> [Did the Dark Lord tell everyone what you did to me?] </em>
</p><p>Oh, that was an excellent distraction. Guilt.</p><p>“That is my understanding. The other Deatheaters… they seem to believe… well. I think he did tell them, yes.” </p><p>
  <em> [Do they respect you for it?] </em>
</p><p>“They do. More than ever. It is… disturbing.”</p><p>
  <em> [What about Draco?] </em>
</p><p>“Does he respect me?”</p><p>
  <em> [Does he believe it?] </em>
</p><p>Severus tapped his fingers against his thigh, and looked over to the door that Draco had left through. His expression as Severus dismissed him had been… notable. “No,” he finally said. “I don’t think he does.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Professor Snape is a powerful Occlumens. He hid his indiscretions from the Headmaster, and took what he wanted from Potter. He gave him will-bending potions or did something to confuse him and that’s why Potter was looking at him like that all year. That’s why he was screaming. And Snape isn’t doing that to you because he doesn’t have to. You have no power. No one is protecting you. He can have you however he wants because you’ve fallen so far, and that’s exactly what he’s doing. And he doesn’t have to manipulate you to get it because you don’t deserve rescue. No one cares, and no one will save you. </em>
</p><p>Except for Snape. </p><p>He slammed his head back against the tiles.</p><p>
  <em> GOD. Stop it. Stop it. Focus. Relax. Calm. Calm.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Relax. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Start over.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He turned around to face the wall, and rested his forehead against the cool tiles. It was soothing against his skin, particularly where he’d been struck. He let out his breath in a slow, thin stream.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Professor Snape is a Deatheater. He’s a sadist. A rapist. He’s loyal to the Dark Lord. The most loyal. You hate him, because he’s hurting you, but there is nothing you can do. And you wouldn’t try to do anything, either, because you deserve it for failing to complete your mission. You deserve whatever your master gives you, because you are loyal to the Dark Lord, too. You love him, and revere him, and respect him, and fear him. And you deserve his punishment. You are grateful for the opportunity to serve someone so faithful to the cause.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Severus Snape is a Deatheater. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Severus Snape has never loved or protected anyone. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Not you, and certainly not Harry Potter. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> [Isn’t that dangerous?] </em>
</p><p>“Yes, it is. But I can’t very well leave him to the wolves, can I?”</p><p>
  <em> [No. You can’t] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It took Draco almost the whole hour to get his mind in order, and he barely made his floo. But he did make it, and when he stepped out of the fire in the Manor’s sitting room, he went straight to the kitchen to present his battered face to his father, who screamed and smashed a glass of gin. The Malfoys were spending a lot of time in the kitchen those days. Servants quarters, kitchen, stable. The safe places, away from the Dark Lord and his favored attendants. And his father was spending a lot of time drinking gin, of course.</p><p>“That BLACKGUARD!” Lucius shrieked, waving the bottle around. His hair was stringy and lank, and his jaw unshaven. He looked like one of the wandless, which, Draco realized, was exactly what he was. “I’ll KILL HIM! He still <em> dares </em> lay <em> hands </em> on <em> my </em>son - ” </p><p>Draco kept himself from rolling his eyes with great effort. If his father was capable of killing anyone, Draco would not be in this situation. Lucius was useless. It was shameful. Humiliating. Like being the son of a squib.</p><p>His mother, though. His mother did not scream when she saw him. She just regarded him steadily with her ice-blue eyes, and offered him a cup of tea. Meeting her gaze and seeing absolutely nothing, Draco wondered who had taught her Occlumency, and if she, too, wished for the end of the war. The end of the embarrassment that had become of her husband, his father. The end of- </p><p>
  <em> Don’t start up again. You’ve only just fixed it. </em>
</p><p>He nodded at her, and took her tea, and retreated to their new living space, where the servants once dwelt. They were the servants now, Draco supposed. It was fitting, really. They deserved it. They were dirt under the boots of the Dark Lord and his lieutenants, and any punishment, any humiliation, was justice. As the Dark Lord commanded, so they would obey. </p><p>
  <em> Better. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>That night as he prepared for sleep and inspected his wounds in the mirror, he wondered how long it would take Rowle and the others to find him. He hoped it would be soon. The fresher Snape’s marks on him were when he was seen by his <em> admirers, </em> the better. Good thing Professor Snape was so fucking terrifying. If anyone else had taken him, there might have been competition and conflict. Subterfuge, and pressure, and possibly… more than one victor. But with Severus Snape as his owner, no one dared. Because Severus Snape was violent, and possessive, and deadly, and he didn’t like it when other people touched his things. </p><p> </p><p>Draco needn’t have worried about Rowle waiting too long to harass him, though. In the end it only took about eighteen hours. He was in the kitchen again, with his drunk father, when Rowle finally spotted him, and he paused in the doorway and smiled, showing his teeth like a wolf.</p><p>“Enjoying your time at school, are you?” he asked, his pale eyes raking over the bruising on Draco’s face. Just the touch of his gaze made Draco’s skin crawl, like an unwanted hand on his bare skin, and he suppressed a shiver of fear.</p><p>“Yes, thank you,” he answered evenly, not looking up. </p><p>“Starting to like it, are you?” Rowle asked, and Draco could see his hands flex and relax by his sides. They were much larger than Snape’s hands. Thick-fingered and broad, like they were only good for inflicting violence. Draco swallowed and looked out the window, turning his head to expose the three long, red scrapes down his neck. They were still raw, and deeply obvious. A ward against evil, gifted by Severus Snape.</p><p><em> Taken, </em> he thought. <em> I’m taken, and you’re scared of the man that took me. He’s the Dark Lord’s favorite, and if you touch me he’ll kill you. He told you that, and he meant it. He meant it.  </em></p><p>“No,” he said. “But I think Professor Snape’s gotten quite attached to me, anyway.” He hesitated. “He says I can take a lot, and - ” What might someone say? Someone that was trying to… <em> please… </em> a Deatheater? “He likes it when I - struggle.” </p><p>He flushed. There was no controlling it.</p><p>“I bet he does,” Rowle answered, his lip curling up just enough to expose a single canine. Draco could see it out of the corner of his eye. “That <em> cruciatus </em> of yours was pretty strong. You must really like it rough<em>.</em>” He moved a little closer, and Draco shifted back. He didn’t mean to, and he didn’t really even realize he’d retreated until his back hit the edge of the counter. At the sudden sensation of being trapped, he let out a tiny, involuntary gasp, and Rowle’s eyes darkened like he <em> liked it. </em> </p><p>God, if only Snape would appear, like he had outside the servants quarters, and when Potter tried to kill him. Just appear, <em> out of thin air, </em>to save his life, like he had before.</p><p>“Bet you’d love to have a real man’s hands on you,” Rowle continued, bracing one hand on the counter beside him and using the other to turn Draco’s chin back to face him. “Bet you would, eh? I’ve got more for you than Snape has.” He grinned again, obscenely, and dragged one finger across Draco’s bottom lip, and Draco’s fear was abruptly so strong that he felt he might get sick. His eyes flicked towards his father sitting at the island, and Rowle sneered.</p><p>“He knows his place, doesn’t he?”</p><p>That was the crowning humiliation in all this, surely. His father was <em> right there. </em> Mere steps away, drunk, staring at the countertop while his only child was threatened with abuse and assault, and he did <em> nothing. </em> Fucking <em> pathetic. </em> Where was Snape? Merlin, if only Draco could have stayed at school. Safe, under Professor Snape’s eye, where these people couldn’t get at him.</p><p>But even in his terror, and disgust, his self-preservation instinct was still intact, and somehow, he managed to catch his own mind in its mistake, and twisted his longing for protection into a longing for his <em> master. </em> That was what would save him, anyway. His master. His owner. </p><p>
  <em> You belong to Severus Snape. Remind him. Tell him again. You're property. You're taken. </em>
</p><p>“Professor Snape doesn’t like it when other people touch me,” Draco breathed, the edge of the marble countertop digging into the small of his back. He could feel sweat breaking out on his brow, and prayed it wasn’t visible. “He really… doesn’t like it. He… checks up on me.”</p><p>“Come now, love,” Rowle answered, patting Draco’s cheek in a way that somehow suggested a slap. “You won’t entertain him forever. He’ll lose interest eventually, and when he does…” He cupped himself between the legs, like what he had in his hand was impressive. “I’ll have something to occupy that pretty mouth of yours.”</p><p>At that gesture, Lucius finally stood up, though he swayed on his feet.</p><p>“Don’t you speak to him like THAT!” he slurred, pointing into Rowle’s face. “Filthy <em> queer.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Rowle knocked out two of his teeth and Draco had to fix it. </p><p>“If you’re not careful you’ll get yourself killed,” Draco said, sitting his father down on the edge of his bed. He held his head still and pointed his wand into his mouth. <em>Snape has no claim on you, you idiot. Fucking useless, wandless, drunken fool.</em> <em>“Cresceredentate.” </em></p><p>His teeth re-grown, Lucius spat blood onto the floor and twisted his chin out of Draco’s hand.</p><p>“You,” he began, sounding suddenly petulant, like a small child whose favorite doll had been borrowed and returned damaged. “Draco - Even at <em> school?” </em></p><p>“Yes, father. Even at school.” <em> Idiot.  </em></p><p>Lucius let out a howl of impotent rage. “I’ll kill him! Don’t worry Draco… don’t worry… we’ll get out of this mess. I’ll fix it. I’ll get back into the Dark Lord’s good graces somehow. And then… and then… he’ll stop. And <em> ROWLE - </em>I’ll kill him, too. The two of them will pay for what they’ve done to you.” </p><p>Draco rather wanted to ask about the others that were looking at him. Rookwood, and <em> Greyback, </em>and Wormtail, too. Wormtail almost scared him the most. He was so… slippery. Not as obviously violent as the other two, but… perverted. He didn’t say anything about them, though. No reason to upset his father any further when he was in this state. In fact, he seemed about to pass out, so Draco pushed him onto his back. He didn’t want his mother to see her husband like that. It was so… pathetic.</p><p>“They’ll <em> pay.” </em></p><p>“I know, father. I know. Lay down.” </p><p> </p><p>Once Lucius was asleep, Draco went back to the kitchen to put the kettle on, and sat down at the little counter, looking out at the courtyard, where the daffodils were starting to come up. He’d always liked this time of year when he was a child. The daffodils, yellow and white, and then the tulips, in all their splendid spring colors. Back when this had been his home.</p><p>His father could rage and rant all he wanted. They had no hope of ever getting back into the inner circle. That was a foolish dream. But maybe Professor Snape would be able to take Draco somewhere else, someday. His mother, too. They got along alright, Snape and his mother. She didn’t seem to hate Snape for what he was doing like his father did. She was too smart for that. </p><p>Maybe she could come, too, when the war was over. If Snape cared to save them. Maybe he would, if Potter was alive. If Potter was alive, in the end, maybe Professor Snape would forgive him for- </p><p>
  <em> NO. </em>
</p><p><em> No. Dangerous thought. </em> </p><p>He squeezed his eyes shut and crushed it, and when the kettle whistled, he made his tea, and thought about how correct the Dark Lord was to value his family so little.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Rowle did not bother him again - he seemed to have left - and once Peter Pettigrew caught sight of Draco’s injuries, he simpered about what a tragedy it was that Snape was such a brute, and that Draco deserved a kinder master, and slunk away. After that interaction Draco was at once very seriously considering buying Professor Snape a gift. What could he give him? The fucking world didn’t seem like enough after the last eight months. He did seem like the kind of man that would appreciate a good bottle of scotch, though. Maybe he could bring one back to school with him at the end of break. That might be a start, if he couldn’t think of something better. A bottle of scotch worth more than his salary as Headmaster, and a tailored set of robes, or something like that. A pocket watch with a crystal face.</p><p>“Father?” he asked. They’d braved the main house that evening, and were sitting before a roaring fire in the drawing room. The Manor was almost empty - The Dark Lord was abroad, and most of the other Deatheaters were working in the Ministry, roving the countryside, or enjoying a bit of freedom to terrorize the populace. As far as Draco was aware, only he, his parents, his aunt Bellatrix, and creepy Peter Pettigrew were still left at the house.</p><p>“Yes, Draco?”</p><p>“Might I bring a bottle of whisky up from the cellar before I return to school?”</p><p>“Whatever for?”</p><p>“For… Professor Slughorn. He’s been quite helpful to me this year. He’s my head of house.”</p><p>“Certainly, certainly,” Lucius said vaguely. “There might still be a case of - ” he broke off, looking over Draco’s shoulder to the entryway. “What is this?” Draco looked around, too, and at the sound of his mother’s voice, his heart nearly stopped in his chest.</p><p>“They say they’ve got Potter,” Narcissa said in her imperious way. “Draco, come here.”</p><p>Potter?</p><p>
  <em> Oh, no.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fuck.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> If they had Potter - </em>
</p><p><br/>DANGEROUS THOUGHT. CRUSH IT.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Turncoat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“Any news from Harry?” Albus’ portrait asked.</p><p>“Not today,” Severus answered. He was sitting at his desk with his feet up, paging through that morning’s Prophet. It was infuriating, as always, and Severus was of the opinion that the ‘wanted’ posters still splashed over every third page were excessive. This issue, the editors seemed to have attempted to make Harry and his friends look more intimidating, and had failed spectacularly. Hermione Granger, with “Undesirable Number Two” emblazoned across her chest, just looked annoyed. She kept glancing down at the caption and frowning, like she was cross to be labeled number <em> two. </em> Ronald looked quite pleased to be on a poster, in a mischievous sort of way, and Harry - well. Harry looked like the type of criminal that would get a great quantity of fan mail in prison. Whomever had doctored that photo had fallen so far short of making him seem threatening that he just looked rather rakish, like an advertisement for cologne. All he needed was the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and something to lean against, and people would be gagging to buy whatever he was selling. </p><p>Maybe he should bring a copy with him the next time Harry called. The three of them might have a laugh at their evil alter-egos, and Harry’s friends could occupy themselves reading the paper while Severus took Harry outside and pinned him to a tree.</p><p>“When did you last see him?” Albus asked</p><p>“Hmm? Oh, about three days ago.”</p><p>“How did he look?”</p><p>Severus glanced at the painting from over the top of his paper. “He looked… Fine.”</p><p>Albus squinted at him, but just then his bracelet alerted him to a message, and he pulled up his sleeve to see. </p><p><em> [I said the name] </em> he read with mounting alarm. <em> [Broke the taboo. Snatchers caught us and they know who they’ve got. We’re in the cellar at Malfoy Manor] </em></p><p>“Oh <em> fuck,” </em> Severus gasped, leaping to his feet and knocking the cup of quills to the floor. </p><p>“What? What is it?” Albus asked.</p><p>Severus didn’t answer. He just seized his cuff and said, <em> “chimera.” </em> No matter that he was in the Headmaster’s office. No matter that Hogwarts was a terribly dangerous place for Harry to appear. It wasn’t half as dangerous as <em> Malfoy Manor. </em> In the cellar? Merlin. </p><p>But Harry did not come, so he said it again, louder.<em> “CHIMERA!” </em></p><p>Still, Harry did not accept his call, and Severus looked down at his bracelet, incensed. What was he <em> doing?  </em></p><p><em> [No. I can’t] </em> appeared <em> [There are other people here. Prisoners. And Bellatrix is hurting Hermione. Do something else. I won’t leave them] </em></p><p>Severus read that twice and then looked up at Albus’ portrait. “Is Dobby still in the castle?” he asked. </p><p>“Why? What’s happened?”</p><p>“ALBUS! <em> Is Dobby still in the castle?” </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Hermione screamed again from overhead, and Ron called desperately back to her, running back and forth, searching the walls and ceiling for any weakness. But it was futile. The cellar was warded, charmed, and totally escape-proof, or so Luna told them. </p><p>“There’s no way out, Ron,” she said. “I tried, at first. Mr. Ollivander has been here for a long time. He’s tried everything.” But Ron paid her no mind.</p><p>“HERMIONE! HERMIONE!” </p><p>He started trying to apparate without a wand, spinning in place, but Harry just stood, paralyzed, staring up at the slats overhead. He hadn’t heard Bellatrix cast the <em> cruciatus, </em> but that was what she’d done, he was sure. There wasn’t anything else on earth that could make someone scream that way. It was just how Severus had screamed. Screamed, and thrashed, and twisted on a stone floor. Maybe even that same one.</p><p>“HERMIONE!” Ron bellowed again, his voice breaking. <em> “HERMIONE! HERMIONE!” </em></p><p>“How did you get into my vault?” Bellatrix demanded from above, her voice growing progressively wilder in her fury. “Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?”</p><p>“We only met him tonight!” Hermione sobbed. “We’ve never been inside your vault… it isn’t the real sword! It’s a copy, just a copy!”</p><p>“A likely story!<em> CRUCIO!!” </em></p><p>Harry scrunched up his face and covered his ears, knowing that Hermione was about to scream again. And she did, and it stabbed straight through him like physical pain, clashing awfully with the agony in his scar. He fought it, squeezing his eyes shut against the terrible splitting, tearing fury in his head - against the vision threatening to transport him right out of the cellar to wherever Voldemort was - wherever Voldemort was torturing someone <em> else </em> - an old man in a prison tower - an old man <em> laughing at him </em> with a mouth empty of teeth - </p><p>His bracelet warmed on his wrist and it jerked him back out. He stared around. What was he doing just fucking standing there? Hermione was being tortured, and what had Bellatrix said? What about a goblin? He dug his thumb into his wrist, released it and did it again, sparing a single glance for the message on his bracelet as he dashed over to Griphook, barely conscious on the floor. </p><p>
  <em> [Help is coming. Hold tight] </em>
</p><p>Relief washed over him, sharpening his attention to a point.</p><p>They needed Griphook. They needed a <em> goblin. </em>They could not lose the sword.</p><p>“Griphook!” he whispered, dropping to his knees and shaking him. “Listen - Listen to me. You have to tell them the sword is fake! Griphook!”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Draco tried not to identify Potter. He really did. But it wasn’t enough. Maybe if Potter hadn’t had Granger and Weasley with him - if he hadn’t had his bloody <em> glasses </em> - he might have been able to slip through their fingers. But he did have those things, and Draco’s reticence to speak hadn’t helped at all, and now Potter was captured. And this was a fucking <em> disaster </em> - the end of <em> everything - </em></p><p>He stomped the thought out as he skidded to a halt outside the cellar.</p><p>“Stand back!” he called through the door. His voice was shaking, and he took a breath to steady it. He could do this. He just had to grab the goblin and bolt. That was all. “Line up against the back wall. Don’t try anything or - I’ll kill you!” </p><p>He waited a beat, unlocked the door, dashed inside, and seized the goblin’s arm. </p><p>
  <em> Go now. Now!  </em>
</p><p>He pivoted on his toes, turning his body to retreat, and glanced up. His lungs froze solid. Potter was <em>right there, </em>tied up, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. The Chosen One, wandless, and helpless, less than a meter from his face. </p><p>
  <em> Fuck - fuck - fuck - </em>
</p><p>He fled, slammed the door shut, and sprinted back up the stairs. </p><p>“Here!” he gasped, throwing the goblin at his aunt’s feet and withdrawing to the edge of the room, trying hard to control the urge to wring his hands. Potter was going to die. The Dark Lord was going to come, and Potter was going to die. They were going to win.</p><p>The <em> Deatheaters </em> were going to win.</p><p>
  <em> And that’s good that’s what you want that’s the whole point come on Draco stay calm focus- </em>
</p><p>He watched, wide-eyed, as his father’s face contorted with excitement beside Bellatrix. His father thought this was their key out of squalor. He thought if they provided the Chosen One to the Dark Lord, that they, as a family, would be lifted back into grace. But he was wrong. There was no grace. No mercy. Not here. At least… not for long. </p><p>And there was Granger, sprawled out on the floor, unconscious. Draco had heard Greyback ask for her. No <em> way </em> would Potter leave her there for <em> Greyback </em> to take. Surely he was going to try something mad to save her. Some insane plan, just like he always did. Some mad, suicidal, rash, heroic plan, just like breaking into the Department of Mysteries with his fucking friends.</p><p>God.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, goblin?” Bellatrix began, giving the little creature a kick in the ribs with her boot. “Look at it! Is it genuine? Tell me!” She gestured wildly towards the sword, sounding almost hysterical. Well, she should be. Draco was hysterical, too. They were at a crossroads, the lot of them. The whole Wizarding World was balanced on this very moment. Right on his own head. He could feel it. “Answer me!” she flicked her wand and a gash opened up across the goblin’s face, splattering the floor with blood. And then suddenly, from below them, there was an ominous <em> crack, </em>and they all looked at the floor.</p><p>
  <em> Mad plan. </em>
</p><p>But how could it be a plan? Potter didn’t even have a <em> wand. </em>But then Draco remembered something; a particularly humiliating disarm at Potter’s hands more than a year earlier. He’d snatched Draco’s wand without saying a single word, right in the corridors of the dungeons. He’d been coming from Professor Snape’s quarters, which he had not realized until later. </p><p>So, Potter didn’t have a wand, now. But… did he even really… need one?</p><p>“What was that?” Lucius gasped, leaping back. “Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar? Draco, go see - no, Narcissa, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!” </p><p>His mother turned to call for Pettrigrew, and Draco stood, stricken. He had to decide. Now. Right now. Who held his loyalty? The Dark Lord? His father? Or Severus Snape?</p><p>That question was easy. </p><p>But what would Snape want him to do?</p><p>“No,” he said suddenly. “No, that’s alright, mother.” She turned to look at him. “I’ll go.” Her expression was quite blank, and he met her gaze, wondering if he would ever see her again. Well, he was going to find out, wasn’t he? “I can handle <em> Potter,” </em>he spat, and turned on his heel. </p><p> </p><p>At the bottom of the stairs he hesitated with his hand on the latch. If he was wrong, he was walking right to the gallows. But he didn’t think he was wrong. He knew what Professor Snape had made him swear, even if he hadn’t said it outright. Professor Snape had made him swear to never <em> make the mistake </em>of acting against Potter again. That was their bargain, he was sure, and once he’d made it, Snape had saved him, and then saved him again. Professor Snape was protecting him when no one else could, and Professor Snape deserved a gift. Maybe this would be one. And if it wasn’t, he’d be executed, and he wouldn’t have to worry about any of this anymore. Win-win.</p><p>He steeled himself, opened the door, and balked. </p><p>Mad plan? The room was <em> empty, </em> and blazing with light. What the fuck?</p><p>Four hands shot out and dragged him inside. One clapped over his mouth, and one relieved him of his wand, and his back hit the cellar wall, and for a moment his instinct overcame his will and he struggled. But then his brain caught up with his body and he forced himself to stop. Fighting wasn’t going to help him. It would either hurt him, or do nothing. So he went still, and after a moment, Potter and Weasley went still, too, looking at each other and then back at him with visible confusion. </p><p>
  <em> Merciful Merlin if these two morons aren’t smart enough to understand what is happening we are all going to die.  </em>
</p><p>“Draco?” came his father’s voice from upstairs. “What is it?”</p><p>Both of his attackers looked up at the sound, and Draco exhaled forcefully to recover their attention. <em> Come on Potter, focus! I’m trying to save your sorry skin! God. </em></p><p>Potter looked back down at him and Draco raised his eyebrows meaningfully. </p><p>
  <em> I’m trying to help you LET GO OF MY MOUTH. </em>
</p><p>Potter narrowed his eyes.</p><p>
  <em> Come on. Please. If Snape loves you, you can’t be a fucking idiot. You CAN’T be. </em>
</p><p>“Draco?” Lucius called again, and Draco blinked once, very hard, desperate to be understood.</p><p>
  <em> Come on, Harry, please. PLEASE. Let GO. </em>
</p><p>Finally, the hand over his mouth relaxed. </p><p>“Harry, no - ” Weasley gasped, but Draco spoke over him, holding Potter’s gaze. </p><p>“Nothing, father,” he called out, his voice ringing clearly in the empty cellar. Empty. What had they even done with all the other prisoners? Mad. “It’s nothing. All fine down here.”</p><p>“Are you fucking kidding me?” Weasley hissed. “Harry, come on, what kind of secret Slytherin shit is<em> this?”  </em></p><p>Potter didn’t say anything right away, or release him, and Draco did not move, either. Having acted, he was suddenly filled with nothing but terror. What in Merlin’s name had he just done? But there was no going back. There was only his own Occlumency to save him from this feat of incredible treachery. That, and Potter.</p><p>
  <em> Alright, swallow your pride. Here we go. </em>
</p><p>“If you tie me up they might not kill me,” he whispered, and Harry’s eyes flicked over his face.</p><p>“Nice black eye,” he said with a small frown. “Did Severus give you that?” </p><p>“Severus?” Draco sneered, “I fucking <em> knew it.” </em>And then Potter touched two fingers to his head, and everything went black.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus paced furiously, waiting for anything. A word, or a call, or the return of Harry’s elf, or<em> something. </em>But nothing came, and as the minutes ticked by, he had to fight hard to control the urge to panic. Surely if the rescue had failed, he would know. Surely the Dark Lord would have called him. To oversee… the executions. </p><p>He stopped pacing, and touched his wand to his wrist.</p><p>“Harry?” he asked. No answer. He tried again. “Harry, please. If you’re alive, answer me.” Still nothing. </p><p>“Anything?” Albus asked from the wall. Severus scowled at him.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Did he say who was there?”</p><p>“Only that there were prisoners,” Severus answered. “Ollivander, certainly. If he isn’t dead. Other than that I don’t know.”</p><p>“It would be good to salvage Ollivander,” Albus said. </p><p><em> “Salvage?” </em> Severus spat, and then jumped as his bracelet warmed. </p><p>
  <em> [Alive] </em>
</p><p>“Oh, thank Merlin,” he moaned. He returned his wand to the silver. “The others? Hermione and Ron?”</p><p>
  <em> [Yes] </em>
</p><p>“The elf? Dobby?” There was a long pause, and his heart sank. “Harry?”</p><p>
  <em> [No] </em>
</p><p>“Oh. I’m sorry.” He turned his back on the portrait. “Are you somewhere safe? Can you call? Can I come to you?”</p><p><em> [No] </em> appeared again. <em> [I mean, yes. I am somewhere safe. But you can’t come. Fidelius charm] </em> a pause. <em> [I’m fine. Not hurt. I have to think. Talk later] </em></p><p>“Alright,” Severus said. “I love you.”</p><p>There was no answer, but that was fine. He was safe, and unhurt, and he’d talk when he was ready. Severus sat down hard at his desk and put his head in his hands.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The sound of his spade scraping through the sandy soil filled Harry’s ears. The rhythmic thrust of the blade into the earth, the strain of lifting the load free, tossing it out of the way, and doing it again was absorbing - almost a mediation. It might have been meditative, anyway, if he hadn’t been filled with such awful grief. As it was, he dug his spade into the soil with a kind of fury, relishing the way his muscles burned, and the rough wood of the handle scraped and blistered his skin. The discomfort felt just. Fair. It was right that he should dig this grave without magic - that he should gift his sweat and labor to Dobby, his friend. Another friend, fallen in his defense. Dead. Murdered. By Bellatrix Lestrange, just like Sirius. </p><p>Forcing the point deep into the ground, he bore down on it with all his weight and hurled the dirt over the side. He dug in again, and again, even as his blisters burst and bled, and, as he toiled, he could see very distantly, through the ocean of his mourning, a vision of the Dark Lord punishing those left behind at Malfoy Manor. Voldemort, infuriated that they had called him back from his errand at Nurmengard - from his killing of Gellert Grindelwald - for more <em> failure, </em> was brutal in exacting his retribution. And Harry saw it all as if through a long tunnel: Draco, thrashing under the <em> cruciatus, </em> Bellatrix screaming for mercy, Draco’s parents unconscious on the ground, and Pettigrew cowering and weeping. His scar burned fiercely with the second hand rage, but the pain did not trouble him. He just dug the grave, and thought about the fear in Bellatrix’ voice when she thought they’d been in her vault, and about Draco’s eyes as he’d lied to his own father. </p><p>As he began to lose sight of the ocean behind the mound he was building, and the sweat plastered his shirt to his back, he thought about magic, and love, and grief, and power. He thought about Horcruxes, and ambition, and the human soul. </p><p>The Elder wand would be lost to him in mere hours, he knew. But that didn’t matter. The Hallows didn’t matter. Severus had shown him that. Severus had shown him that he didn’t need the Hallows, or the Elder Wand, or any wand at all, because Severus knew him. Severus knew him, and loved him, and that love had reached so far across space that it turned Draco Malfoy against the Dark Lord. Draco, who had been so proud to take the mark, who had torn Hogwarts open and filled her with Deatheaters, had risked his life to help Harry, for Severus. Because of Severus’ mercy. And that mercy had been for him, too, hadn’t it? Severus had told him so, that night, out in the snow. <em> ‘I knew you’d want me to try to protect him.’  </em></p><p>The spade hit a chunk of granite and he hefted it out of the trench, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow and smearing his face with red earth. </p><p> </p><p>Voldemort was going to take the Elder Wand from Dumbledore’s grave, because he did not understand what mattered. He didn’t understand anything, really, because he’d torn his own soul apart. Torn it right into seven to try to escape from death. But there was no escaping death, Harry knew that. It was everywhere, it was all around, and it would come for Him, just like it came for everyone else. </p><p>Harry would come for him - already <em> was </em> coming for him.</p><p>He’d destroyed the diary, and the locket, and Dumbledore had destroyed the ring. That left Hufflepuff’s Cup, one last mysterious object, the snake, and then Voldemort himself. And one of them was in Bellatrix’ vault, he was sure. Her terror had revealed that to him as clearly as a confession. So, he would go there, and take it from her, and kill it. </p><p>Death would collect the Dark Lord, just as it collected the three brothers that had so enthralled Harry, each in turn. Master of Death? There was no such thing. Everyone died, in their own good time. The purpose of life was to love, not survive.</p><p>Let the Dark Lord have the wand. Harry didn’t need it. All he needed was Severus, and he had him, now. He was whole, and complete, and he was going to win. He wasn’t afraid of death. He wasn’t afraid of anything, and Dobby hadn’t been afraid, either. What had he said? What had he screamed, right into the faces of his tormentors?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Dobby has no master!’ </em>
</p><p> </p><p>No master. </p><p>Not even death.</p><p> </p><p>He carved the epitaph with his naked finger, in a smooth, white stone. Deep, and clear, at the edge of the garden at Shell Cottage. </p><p> </p><p>Here Lies Dobby, A Free Elf.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>“My Lord,” Severus began, giving a small bow as Voldemort appeared at the boundaries of the school. “How is the night faring?”</p><p>“I have no time for your pleasantries, Severus,” the Dark Lord hissed.</p><p>“Apologies,” Severus answered. He despised the way his name sounded in the Dark Lord’s mouth. All sibilant hisses and cold calculation. He recalled thinking it sounded important, even regal, in his youth. But now he just felt disgust and shame. Or, he would feel those things, if his barriers were down. But they weren’t, and so he felt nothing at all. There weren’t even any cracks, as Harry had not yet reached out to him from his place of safety. He gestured for the Dark Lord to enter, and Voldemort’s snakelike eyes narrowed. </p><p>“And how have you been handling your… rebellions?” he asked, his cloak billowing impressively out behind him as he strode into the grounds.</p><p>“Easily, my Lord,” Severus answered, walking by his side. “Most have fled. My punishments were too harsh for them, it seems.”</p><p>“Blood traitors are weak.”</p><p>“Indeed. Shall we?” They were passing the lake, and Severus turned towards the school, but the Dark Lord did not follow. </p><p>“I shall join you in the castle shortly, Severus,” he said. “Leave me, now.”</p><p>“As you wish.” Severus gave another bow, and turned up the path. His bracelet warmed as he walked, but he did not look just then. Not until he was inside the castle, and well up the stairs, did he dare.</p><p>
  <em> [Severus?] </em>
</p><p>“Yes?” he whispered back.</p><p>
  <em> [Be careful] </em>
</p><p>“I always am.”</p><p>
  <em> [Tell me when He’s gone] </em>
</p><p>Severus stopped still in the stairway. “I will,” he answered slowly. “How did you…?”</p><p><em> [Just tell me when he’s gone] </em> a pause. <em> [Barriers ok?] </em></p><p>“Yes,” Severus answered, feeling himself for weakness. “But don’t say anymore, just now.”</p><p>Nothing else came.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry lay awake on the floor of Bill and Fleur’s living room, wrapped in a sleeping bag. Ron and Dean were barely black shapes in the darkness beside him. Hermione and Luna were sleeping in a small bedroom upstairs, and Griphook and Ollivander were each ensconced in impromptu sickbeds elsewhere in the cottage. It was very late, and Dean was snoring softly, but Harry didn’t think Ron was asleep. He’d been infuriated when Harry told him about the Elder Wand, and he was probably laying there fuming silently in the dark, trying to think up more arguments. He seemed to believe that Harry was making a huge mistake in not trying to prevent the Dark Lord from seizing the Hallow, but that was because Ron did not understand what Harry understood, now. Ron didn’t understand Voldemort, or anything else, really. So, Harry did not try to speak to him, or convince him of anything. He just waited for Severus to tell him that it was safe to talk. It took a long time. </p><p> </p><p><em> [Awake?] </em>finally appeared sometime near dawn. </p><p><em> Yes, </em> Harry sent back. <em> Just waiting. </em> </p><p>
  <em> [I’m sorry it took so long. He’s gone now. How did you know he was here?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I had a vision. I could see him walking with you in the grounds.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Are you alright? Will you tell me what happened at the Manor?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I will, but there’s something else I need to tell you first. Do you remember what I said about the Hallows? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Yes] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And about the Elder Wand? How it changes hands? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Yes, I remember. What is it?] </em>
</p><p><em>While I was in the cellar I saw a killing.</em> <em>It was Grindelwald, in a prison.</em></p><p>
  <em> [Gellert Grindelwald?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yes. The Dark Lord came to him in his cell. The Elder Wand is real, and Grindelwald had it before he fell. Did you see where the Dark Lord went after he sent you up to the castle? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [No] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He went to Dumbledore’s grave. </em>
</p><p>There was a silence, and Harry closed his eyes, wondering if Severus was in his bed, or sitting at his table, or his office, or where? He thought about asking, but just waited, instead. He knew it wouldn’t take Severus long to connect the dots Harry himself had connected, and he was right. Maybe a minute. </p><p><em> [I killed Albus] </em>Severus said.</p><p><em> Yes, you did, </em>Harry answered.</p><p>
  <em> [But I did not defeat him] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [So either the wand still belongs to Albus] </em>
</p><p><em> Or it belongs to you. </em>Harry pressed his thumb into his wrist and counted to five, and his breathing slowed again. </p><p><em> [Harry] </em> appeared by itself, and Harry waited. <em> [I don’t know if you know the story, but Albus overcame Gellert Grindelwald by disarm] </em></p><p>
  <em> Oh. But -  </em>
</p><p>Harry broke off, staring into the middle distance. He hadn’t known that, but he should have. Grindelwald had been alive in his cell, after all, so Dumbledore couldn’t have killed him. But… if disarm transferred the wand… </p><p>He touched his bracelet. </p><p>
  <em>But, Draco disarmed Dumbledore first, that night. Before you came up to the tower. Draco disarmed him. I saw it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I know] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Well, if disarming works - if it was Draco’s - Ron took his wand in the cellar last night. It wasn’t the Elder Wand, it was his regular one - but - do you think that counts? He still has it, now. He’s been using it. </em>
</p><p>That time, the silence was very long, indeed, and Harry started feeling afraid again. Severus was formulating his response before sending it, and that usually meant he had something bad to say. Or something… upsetting. </p><p><em> [There was an altercation with Rowle at the Manor. Months ago. He disarmed Draco, and I retrieved his wand and returned it] </em> another pause. <em> [Rowle did not fight. He submitted to me. What might that mean?] </em></p><p>Harry took a deep breath. <em> I think it means that wand lore is complicated, </em> he sent. <em> But that it’s either you by murder, or it’s you by victory. Severus. It’s you.  </em></p><p>The need to touch Severus was abruptly so strong that Harry very nearly called him. But he controlled the urge, pressed his thumb back into his wrist, and counted to five.</p><p><em> [Well] </em> Severus sent. <em> [I suppose I should hope that the Dark Lord does not know any of that, shouldn’t I?] </em></p><p>Harry stifled a weak chuckle. It was so like Severus to make light of a fucking guilllotine blade hovering over his neck. </p><p>
  <em> That is not funny. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Harry] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yes? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I am in no greater danger now than before] </em>
</p><p>What a lie. Voldemort had torn Europe apart searching for the Elder Wand. If he found out it had unwittingly passed to Severus Snape, he wouldn’t even hesitate.</p><p>
  <em> Yes you are. He’ll kill you. </em>
</p><p><em> [Of course he’ll kill me] </em> Severus answered. <em> [He’d kill me for passing information to the Order, and waylaying Quirrell, and for bringing you the sword, and sending help after you at the ministry, and protecting Draco, and for loving you, of course. What is one more reason? I am in precisely the same amount of mortal peril that I have been in since I turned. Although] </em></p><p>Harry shifted onto his side, curling his arm in close to his eyes to read the words. He’d lost Severus’ cloak when the snatchers came, but he wished badly for it right then. For anything at all, really, that might remind him of Severus’ closeness. He pressed his fingertips into the mark on his neck. It hurt, and it made him feel a little better.</p><p>
  <em>[It might be prudent to take care of Rowle if I get the opportunity. Just on the off chance intimidation doesn’t sway this wand of yours] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I suppose.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I should, in any case. Even if he isn’t a loose end, he’s a swine. Just because I’m not allowing him to damage Draco doesn’t mean isn’t damaging anyone else] </em>
</p><p>Harry tried to imagine Severus ‘taking care’ of someone. He’d seen him kill Dumbledore, of course, but that had been clinical. That had been a job, and one he hadn’t wanted to do. Hardly an act of passion. What had he done to the minister? And what might have happened if he’d come in person to break Harry out of Malfoy Manor? Carnage.</p><p>He shivered.</p><p>
  <em> Severus? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Yes?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You’re very scary. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Am I?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Well, not to me, I guess. To other people. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I’ve gotten that impression. Will you tell me what happened at the Manor? How did they catch you?]  </em>
</p><p>Harry told him the story. He told him about listening to Potterwatch and how wonderful it had felt to hear friendly voices, and how disarming, and how he’d broken the taboo in a moment of distraction, and the snatchers had come. He told him about being dragged to Malfoy Manor with the others, and how Bellatrix chose Hermione to torture, and what happened after Dobby appeared. </p><p>Severus did not interrupt him, and when he was through, he had only one question.</p><p>
  <em> [How did you know Draco would help you?] </em>
</p><p><em> I dunno, </em> Harry answered, looking into the darkness. <em> I could see it in his eyes. </em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Shell Cottage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>p.s. this was going to be a 9k word chapter so I broke it into two to post faster</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ron and Hermione were not so easily convinced the next morning. The three of them had taken their breakfast out into the garden for a little privacy, and were sitting on the low wall that separated Shell Cottage from the cliffs overlooking the sea. Ron was busy regaling Hermione with the tale of what had happened down in the cellar, but Harry wasn’t listening. He was just looking out at the sea, thinking about Severus. The smell of salt and the sound of the surf had reminded him forcefully and instantly of his last visit, and as he sat there next to his friends, a tremor of memory prickled his body with goosebumps. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> It feels good to submit, doesn’t it? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The mark on his neck had not faded at all, but he didn’t try to cover it. It seemed frivolous to be shy, really, when he’d arrived at Shell Cottage with Dobby mortally wounded, and Hermione and Griphook tortured, and two emaciated prisoners. So he just let Bill, Fleur, and the others look at him out of the corners of their eyes whenever he was within view, and said nothing. Bill, in particular, looked at him a lot when he thought Harry wasn’t paying attention. It seemed like they were all trying to figure out if it had been done to him at Malfoy Manor, or some time before, or if… Ron or Hermione had done it… or what? It was kind of funny, and kind of sad, and he was glad his friends kept his secrets so well. No one tried to ask, either, which made Harry think they all assumed someone had done something awful to him in captivity. That was fine. That was what all the Deatheaters thought, too. And they were all wrong. Let them think he was easy to corner. That he couldn’t protect himself. Let them think that. </p><p>He opened his hand in his lap and a little red ruby appeared in his palm. He let it sparkle in the sun for a moment, vanished it, made an emerald, and vanished that, too. Hermione was sitting beside him on the stones, watching from inside a blanket, but she didn’t speak. She just watched, while Ron’s story moved on to how Dobby had apparated the others out of the cellar, while he and Harry stayed behind to rescue her. She was still very pale, but Bill had healed the cut on her neck, and her tremors were getting better. She’d been shaking so violently when they first arrived that she could hardly walk, but now it was more like a fine shiver. Bill said it might take a few days to go away completely after how long she’d been held under the <em> cruciatus, </em> but that it would stop eventually. </p><p>Looking at her white fingers clutching the edge of the blanket, Harry wondered if she’d always been so incredibly strong. He’d known she was brave, of course, but to lie like that under torture? To keep her story straight right up to unconsciousness? She wasn’t just brave. She was a soldier - far stronger than even Harry had ever dreamed. </p><p>He smiled at her and summoned a yellow rose with a short, smooth stem, and made it bloom. Then, he held it out, and she took it from his hand with a little smile of her own. She put it in her hair, and Harry looked back out at the waves.</p><p> </p><p>He wished Severus had drawn blood. Wished he’d made a scar. A token to take with him into war, like the scratches he’d left on Severus’ back after the hearing. He almost scoffed to think of that, now. The Governors. Lupin. The <em> snatchers. </em> Fools, all of them. As if anything on earth could keep Severus from him, now. Severus himself had said it, ages ago. No grave, no pyre, not even the end of the world. Not even the falling sky. </p><p>Nothing.</p><p>He touched the mark on his neck, pressing into it like he had the night before. It felt good. Severus’ marks on his body always felt good, like he was more himself when he wore them. Like he was more real, more alive, because Severus had laid hands on him. </p><p>He touched the one on his chest, too, through his shirt, and sighed. He’d been hoping Severus would be able to come again, maybe even soon, but at Bill and Fleur’s it was impossible. Bill was the secret keeper of Shell Cottage, and Harry could not take Severus inside their Fidelius charm. Or, if he could, he didn’t know what it might do. The bracelets seemed to disregard all magical laws. Violating the Fidelius might break the charm, or put the others in danger, somehow, and now that he knew what Severus was to him, and what he was to Severus, he could wait. There was no hurry. He might like to touch Severus - might like to be touched by him - but he didn’t need it so desperately, now. It was like Severus was just on the other side of a door. Just out of his line of sight. Not like before, when he’d felt gone even with his hand on Harry’s shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>Beside him on the rock masonry, Ron had reached their battle with Bellatrix, Wormtail, and the Malfoys, and was gesticulating his arms enthusiastically. </p><p>“And then I screamed NOOOOO! And leapt out at them! AHA!” He jumped off the wall, brandishing Draco’s wand like a rapier. “Ha! Ha! Get back!!”</p><p>Hermione just grimaced and glanced at Harry, and Harry wondered if maybe it was just Ron’s volume that disagreed with her. The <em> cruciatus </em>could make you pretty sensitive. </p><p>“But… Draco let you out?” she asked. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“It was MAD,” Ron answered immediately, sitting back down in her line of sight, trying to get her attention back. “He burst in the door, and we grabbed him, but he didn’t fight at all! He just stood there, really still, and just sort of,” he pulled an intense face, wiggling his fingers at Harry, “<em>gazed </em> into Harry’s eyes. And then Harry let go of his mouth and he called up to his dad that everything was fine!” </p><p>Harry wasn’t listening. He was thinking about Draco’s black eye, and Severus, and the Elder Wand shooting sparks in Voldemort’s hand, and about cracks in thoughts. And Rowle.</p><p> </p><p>“OI! Harry! I’m talking to you!”</p><p>He jumped. </p><p>“What?” Apparently Ron had been speaking that whole time. </p><p>“I <em> said </em> why in bloody hell did Draco do that? And what in bloody hell was that look he gave you?” He made the face again, and pulled down one of his bottom eyelids, rolling his eyes in their sockets. “Weird <em> eyeeeee contact, </em>mate.”</p><p>“Oh. Well…” Harry looked back out at the horizon and trailed off, and Ron scoffed in exasperation.</p><p>“How many fucking Slytherin boyfriends do you have?” he asked, crossing his arms. That got Harry’s attention very well.</p><p><em>“One,” </em>he shot back, annoyed. “And he’s not my bloody <em>boyfriend, </em>is he?” Harry didn’t like it when Ron said that. It sounded childish, like Severus wanted to take him out for <em>coffee </em>instead of spending every waking moment with a knife at his throat because of their relationship. <em>Boyfriend? </em>Rude. There was no word in any language that could name what Severus was to him. Not even soulmate. “Look. I didn’t tell you guys this part because it’s gross and I didn't think it mattered. So, if you really want to hear it, fucking buckle up, ok?” He glanced over his shoulder to see that no one else had come out of the house before continuing. “After Severus stepped in to kill Dumbledore, Draco tried to save his own skin by telling You Know Who that Severus’ loyalties had shifted to me. Which is true, obviously, but Severus was prepared, and had a bunch of fake rubbish mocked up to explain it.”</p><p>“Fucking <em> weasel,” </em>Ron hissed.</p><p>“I’m not done,” Harry continued. “After that, I guess You Know Who thought Severus deserved, sort of… a reward. And he wanted to punish Draco, so he offered Draco to him. To use.” <em> Instead of me, </em> he didn’t say. “Severus said no. That he wasn’t interested in him, but…” He wasn’t that clear on the details of what happened next, but his friends didn’t really need to know the details, anyway. Any of them. “But then, I guess, some other people <em> were </em> interested in him. Other Deatheaters. And Draco couldn’t protect himself, and his father couldn’t put a stop to it, either.” </p><p>He told them about Rowle, the big blonde one that had cornered them in London, and a relatively sanitized summary of what Severus was doing to try to shield Draco from harm. The pair of them listened silently throughout the whole explanation, their eyes getting progressively wider.</p><p>“So, you’re telling me that You Know Who gave Draco to Snape as… like… property?”  Ron asked. “And those bruises…”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“And Snape’s been protecting him from the others, by pretending to be his… owner,” Hermione said.  </p><p>“Yeah.” They looked at eachother with matching expressions of disgust. “I told you it was gross,” Harry said, crossing his arms. “Severus has been beating the living hell out of him since August.”</p><p>“Ugh,” Ron muttered. “That is…”</p><p>“Yeah! Gross! I know.” He stood up. “I need to take a walk.”</p><p>“Harry, wait, don’t go,” Hermione grabbed the edge of his shirt. “I’m sorry. Just. Stay, ok? Please sit with us.” Harry looked at the pallor of her face, and the shadows under her eyes, sighed, and sat down in the dirt with his back against the stones. He hugged his knees. It was gross. The whole thing was fucked up and gross. If someone had asked him this time last year what he thought of Draco Malfoy, he would have said, ‘Deatheater Scum,’ but now he’d say, ‘victim,’ and he was pretty sure that had been the truth the whole time. What was Draco supposed to do, with a Deatheater for a father? Go to art school? He closed his eyes.</p><p>Draco had asked them to tie him up, and they had done it, and Draco had survived. Not unscathed, but… alive. He wondered how long that would last. If the Dark Lord ever looked into Draco’s mind and saw him let Ron and Harry out of the cellar, that would be it for him. Maybe Severus was teaching him Occlumency. He hoped so. And if he was, he hoped Draco would be better at it than Harry himself had been. Maybe he should ask. </p><p>Hermione slid down to sit next to him on the ground, and then, after a moment, Ron did, too. “Harry,” she said gently. “Will you tell Snape thank you for me? For sending Dobby.” All three of them looked over to the fresh mound of earth, a dark blot in the clean, well-kept garden. “Will you tell him?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ron added. “Tell him thanks.”</p><p>Harry touched his bracelet. <em> Ron and Hermione say thanks, </em>he sent. It took about five minutes to get an answer.</p><p>
  <em> [For what?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> For saving us. </em>
</p><p><em> [Tell them I’m quite used to it] </em> Severus replied. <em> [And tell miss Granger that her fortitude under duress is admirable] </em></p><p>“Oi! What about me?” Ron demanded, reading the messages that appeared, and Harry laughed at how irate he sounded. Everyone just wanted praise from Severus these days, he supposed. </p><p>
  <em> Ron says what about him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Tell Mr. Weasley that he can eat more food than anyone I’ve ever seen] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Ron,” Bill called. “Can you give me a hand out back? Woodpile.”</p><p>“Oh, sure,” Ron answered, and turned to Hermione beside him. “Back in a bit,” he said, and stood up to follow his brother out into the yard. The three of had been half-heartedly playing a game of crazy eights with Luna and Dean in the living room, but Luna was still quite emaciated, and so rather spacier than usual, and Harry was just staring at nothing thinking about Bellatrix’ vault, so it hadn’t been going that well. </p><p>“Shall we call it?” Hermione asked. “Ron was winning, I think.”</p><p>“Hm?” Harry murmured. “Oh. Yeah, ok.” He looked around like he’d forgotten where he was. “I think I’d like a bit of fresh air, actually. Fancy a walk?”</p><p>“I’m rather tired,” Luna answered, and Dean laid a hand on her shoulder.</p><p>“C’mon Luna,” he said gently. “You should have a lie-down. I’ll take you upstairs.” She beamed at him, and took his arm when he stood. </p><p>“I’ll come,” Hermione said. </p><p> </p><p>They put their jackets on at the door, and when they stepped outside, Harry inhaled deeply of the brisk sea air. He liked it there a lot. The ocean, and the cliffs, and the low hillocks of coarse grass. It was a lovely place, truly lovely, and it reminded him, in an oblique sort of way, of the cottage he’d imagined with Severus all those nights curled up in his rooms. That one wouldn’t be on the coast, of course, but it would be rather lonely, the way Shell Cottage was lonely. Isolated, and beautiful, and just big enough for a little family of two.</p><p>Hermione took his hand, and they set off together around the edge of the wards. The Fidelius charm had a pretty wide perimeter, much wider than the one around Number Twelve, and Harry wondered if it had taken more than one Order-member to cast it. Dumbledore could have done it, of course, but he was gone. Maybe Bill and Fleur had been enough. They were both pretty powerful. </p><p>Hermione’s hand was quite cool in his own, and he gave it a little squeeze.</p><p>“How are you doing?” he asked. </p><p>“Oh, I’m alright,” she answered. “The shaking’s almost gone. How are you?”</p><p>“I’m alright, too, I suppose. ” </p><p>There was a small silence, broken only by their footfalls, and the distant crash of the waves. A sea-bird called from far away, answered by its fellows, and they looked towards the melancholy sound.</p><p>“You miss him, don’t you?” Hermione asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry answered, and Hermione’s hand tightened. “But it’s ok. It's nothing like before, when he was really gone. Or before you - Actually, I meant to say thank you. For…  you know, knocking me in the head about that Patronus stuff. I don’t think I would have figured that out for a while.”</p><p>Hermione looked at him cornerwise. “Your reaction was a little bit… different than I was expecting,” she said as they passed the meandering path that led down towards the cliffs. “Are you two… I mean. Is it usually like that?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, pretty much,” Harry laughed. “Although I’m not usually quite that rude. Well, actually…” he thought about it. “I can be pretty rude, but I think he kind of likes it.” Hermione gave him another furtive glance. “What?”</p><p>“Can I ask you something kind of… personal?” </p><p>“Yeah, I guess. What is it?”</p><p>“What’s it like?” </p><p>Harry stopped and turned to look at her. “What’s what like?” She blushed. “Oh. You mean… having… a lover?” He blushed, too. He could feel it.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Oh. Well,” he scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck, thinking about Severus’ teeth and nails and the implacable strength of his hands. “I think it would be pretty different for you and… whoever you end up with. But. It’s uh - good. It’s really good.”</p><p>“He’s a lot older than you.”</p><p>“I know that.”</p><p>“Isn’t that… kind of… strange?”</p><p>“Not really,” Harry answered, and they started walking again. That hadn’t ever really occurred to him as something to worry about. Sure, Severus was older, but he was also a Professor, and a Deatheater, and the nemesis of Harry’s own father. What was a bit of an age-gap next to all that? He scuffed his feet in the pebbles of the path. “I mean… It was kind of scary at first, but in an exciting sort of way. You know… against the rules and everything. And since he’s older, he already knows how to - uh. He already knows everything. So he can… sort of… teach me stuff.” Now he was red. He could feel the heat of it all the way down to his toes. “Y’know… like the meditation thing. And. Uh.” He grimaced. </p><p>Hermione took pity on him and didn’t ask for any specifics. “He seems like he really loves you,” was what she said, instead.</p><p>“Yeah, I think he does.” </p><p>She sighed wistfully. “I hope I find that someday.”</p><p>Harry opened his mouth to say something petty about Ron, but before he could even begin the sentence, a snatch of conversation was carried to them on the wind, and he stayed quiet.</p><p>“...<em> not </em> want to ask him that.”</p><p>“...not asking him… asking you.”</p><p>Harry and Hermione slowed to a halt. It was Ron and Bill. The wood pile must be just around the corner of the house. They crept a little closer and stopped to eavesdrop.</p><p>“Listen,” Ron continued, sounding annoyed. “I really appreciate everything you did for me when I left Harry, and I know we’re family, but unless you can do Occlumency, I am not telling you anything.”</p><p>“I can do Occlumency,” Bill answered, sounding just as annoyed as his youngest brother. </p><p>“Can you keep out You Know Who?” Silence. “Thought not. I’m not telling you, alright? Not a damn thing. And don’t you bother Harry, either. I know it seems fucking impossible, but he’s fine. He’s FINE.”</p><p>“Ronald.”</p><p>“Don’t <em> Ronald </em>me. What are you, my mother? I’m going back inside.”</p><p>“What are you three trying to do with Griphook?” Bill called.</p><p>“SAME ANSWER!” Ron shouted back. </p><p>There was the slamming of a door, and Harry and Hermione looked at eachother. </p><p>“Oh! Zere you are, ‘ermione!” Fleur called brightly from behind them, and they turned to see her head poking out of a window. “Might you ‘elp me in ze kitchen?”</p><p>Hermione gave Harry a meaningful look. </p><p>“Certainly, Fleur,” she answered. “We were just having a bit of a walk. I’ll only be a moment.” Fleur waved and pulled the window closed with a little squeal of rusty hinges. “Pretty obvious technique,” Hermione scoffed. “Interrogate the witnesses separately.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I can handle <em> her.” </em></p><p>Harry gave her a weak smile, and when she trotted back towards the house, he walked back the way they’d come. But he didn’t go towards the front door. Instead, he went to the garden, and knelt down beside Dobby’s grave. He half expected Bill to come looking for him, but he didn’t, and after a moment, Harry pushed up his sleeve.</p><p><em> Hey, </em>he thought.</p><p><em> [Harry] </em> appeared almost instantly. <em> [Is everything alright?] </em></p><p>
  <em> Yeah. I was just thinking about you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [And I, you] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You always say that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [It’s always true]  </em>
</p><p>Harry smiled to himself. Severus could be such a softie, sometimes. Funny to think how much that used to scare him. He wondered what he would have done if he’d known from the start how much love Severus had to give. He might have run for the hills. Good thing Severus was so good at withholding his true feelings when he needed to. Speaking of withholding feelings… </p><p>
  <em> How’s your head?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Like a Gringotts vault, just now] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Good. Let me know if I’m doing any damage. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I shall] </em>
</p><p>Harry looked over at the house, and then back down at the grave beside him. </p><p><em> I know I can’t tell you where I am, </em> he began, <em> but I wish you could see it. It’s really nice. </em></p><p>
  <em> [Is it? That’s good to hear] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> There’s a garden. It’s where I buried Dobby. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I’m sure he would have loved it] </em>
</p><p>Harry sighed, and pressed his palm flat into the disturbed earth covering his friend’s tiny body. It was so sad to think of him down there, dressed in the clothes of the people he’d saved, alone, in the dark ground, when all he’d ever deserved was a little happiness, just like everyone else. A little freedom, a little space, to just live.</p><p>Around his fingers, tiny green shoots began to push up out of the dirt and spread outward, and within moments the whole grave was covered in a succulent sort of creeper with bright purple flowers. Harry didn’t even know what sort of plant it was, but he supposed it must have been in the soil. He stayed like that for a while, with his palm to the grave, giving the sprouts more magic, and when he finally took his hand away, he saw that he’d left a perfect hand print. It was beautiful, as most things at Shell Cottage were beautiful, and his heart gave a little squeeze of remorse for the life Dobby had led.</p><p>
  <em> [Harry. Are you sure you’re alright?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [How is your magic, then?] </em>
</p><p>Harry brushed off his hands and looked down at the tiny fat leaves, still spreading outward over every available centimeter, save for where his hand had lain. Had he done that on purpose?</p><p><em> Strong, </em> he sent back, and looking down at the vibrant life he’d called forth, he thought of his field. He hadn’t had much time to meditate in the last few days, and even less privacy in which to do it, and so had only explored a tiny piece of his new internal landscape. But it wasn't a field, or a wasteland, or a desert, anymore. It was some kind of tropical forest. A wild tangle of incredible beauty, riven with peaks and valleys, streams, and waterfalls, and birds of paradise. He’d woken up to it like that the morning after Severus came to him on the beach - just stepped inside to an overwhelming paradise, redolent with the fragrance of exotic flowers, fertile soil, and aromatic herbs. In a single night.</p><p><em> It’s really strong, </em>he thought. </p><p>
  <em> [Just like the rest of you] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Fleur had, indeed, attempted to get information out of Hermione, which Harry honestly thought was pretty funny. Didn’t they realize Hermione hadn’t given up a single scrap of truth even under <em> torture? </em> It was like Bill and Fleur thought they were still kids, and when he said that to Hermione, she laughed.</p><p>“Funny to think we’d still be in school if we weren’t fighting a war,” she said. “Doing <em> homework.” </em> </p><p>“Huh,” Ron answered. “We’d be worried about exams. NEWTS would be this year. Pretty soon, too. Weird.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry agreed, privately thinking that he’d probably be in Severus’ bed right at that moment if they hadn’t fled the school. Or… on the floor. Or… face down on the table. Good God, did he want that. “What did she ask you, Hermione?”</p><p>“Oh…” she glanced over her shoulder and dropped her voice. “She wanted to know about that,” she said, pointing at his neck. “I told her you didn’t want to talk about it, and sort of… made it seem like you were… y’know. Traumatized.” Harry nodded. “And she wanted to know what we wanted with ‘zat ‘orrible goblin.’”</p><p>“They really do think we’re idiots, don’t they?”</p><p>“Maybe they just think we need help. Or… that you do.”</p><p>Harry scoffed. “Little late on that front. Where were they while we were starving? Or before that, at Grimmauld Place? At least Lupin served his invasive questioning with a little <em> effort. </em> One little bruise turns everyone into Sherlock bloody Holmes.” He thought about Lupin quite accurately accusing Severus of <em> ‘doing something,’ </em> to him, as if that were some sort of mortal sin. Wizards didn’t even believe in sin as far as he was aware, and a hickey was hardly an unforgivable curse, was it?</p><p>“It’s… a bit more than a bruise…” Hermione giggled. “I mean. Harry.” She moved her finger in a little circle, aiming it at the teeth marks that had darkened and spread into a deep purple blotch over the last few days, and Harry blushed and covered it with his hand. She just giggled harder. “I can’t believe he’s so… bitey.”</p><p>“Does he really not seem <em> bitey </em> to you?” Harry shot back. If she was going to make him blush again, then he was going to make <em> her </em>blush again. But she didn’t blush, and she didn’t stop cackling, either, so he pulled his collar down to expose the mark on his chest and raised his eyebrows. That made her stop laughing. She gasped, and then leaned closer to look at it like it might be decipherable into words.</p><p>“Wow,” she breathed. “Do you have any more?” She scanned his body with interest like she was hoping he’d take off his clothes to show her, and that made him laugh again. </p><p>“No! Jeez, Hermione. Personal.” He pulled his collar back into place. “Mind your own business.” </p><p>“What? You showed it to me.”</p><p>“WELL, ANYWAY,” Ron interjected loudly. “As long as they don’t try to keep us from planning, it's ok, right?” He looked at Harry. “Has Griphook given you his answer yet?”</p><p>Griphook hadn’t, but that very evening, he did, and his answer was yes, he would help them break into a Gringotts vault. <em> If </em> they promised him the sword of Gryffindor. And so, they began to plot their assault on the impenetrable Wizarding Bank. Good thing Bellatrix had chosen Hermione to torture. Hermione got one of her hairs.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. His Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The first thing Griphook did after assuring Harry, Ron, and Hermione that the whole enterprise was doomed to failure, was to create a number of very detailed diagrams of the layout of the bank and it’s vaults, along with the security measures that had been in place before he went into hiding. It was a huge amount of information - much more than they’d gathered before their foray into the Ministry - and the three of them spent the next several days pouring over the bits of parchment until their eyes burned. It wasn’t bad being so engrossed, though, especially not after so many months of fruitless wandering, and Hermione in particular seemed to relish the challenge. She bent over the diagrams and lists with maniacal energy, her nose nearly touching the parchment, and Harry wondered if she really did miss exams after all. This was kind of like studying for the OWL’s, he supposed. If failure resulted in death, that was. Maybe it was more like the Triwizard tournament. </p><p>“Alright, so,” Hermione said, a wild light in her eyes. “If Harry’s under the cloak, and I’m disguised as Bellatrix, what should we do with Ron?”</p><p>“What do you mean, ‘<em>do with me?’” </em>Ron asked. “Just give me a beard or something!”</p><p>“Well you can’t just be a <em> civilian, </em> Ron,” Hermione scoffed. “What would some random man be doing with Bellatrix Lestrange?”</p><p>“Maybe he’s her <em> boyfriend,” </em>Ron shot back, and Hermione blushed and then glared at him.</p><p>“I doubt Bellatrix Lestrange has a <em> boyfriend!” </em></p><p>“I think the Dark Lord is her boyfriend,” Harry interjected, rolling his eyes. He’d thought the bickering would stop after their latest brush with death, but apparently not. “She looks at him with big googly eyes. I’ve seen it. I bet they’re doing it.” He said it to distract them from their argument, and it did.</p><p>“EW,” Hermione squealed, shaking her hands.  </p><p>“Mate, NO,” Ron gasped, disgusted. </p><p>“Well, can we focus, or what? Getting inside the damn bank isn’t the half of it!”</p><p> </p><p>And so they planned, and schemed, and started over when Griphook shot their ideas down, and Harry spoke to Severus every night before bed, and sometimes during the day, too. He did it quite openly, as he was pretty much finished pretending he wasn’t madly in love with the person on the other side of the silver, even if most everyone in the house had no idea who that was. Severus still made him stop when he got too frisky, though, and Harry was just starting to really feel the frustration of that precaution when he was finally offered a break. </p><p>It was late evening when Harry’s bracelet warmed with the message, and it took his mind off of Bellatrix’ vault for the first time in days. </p><p><em> [Good evening, Potter] </em> he read, a little tingle shooting down his spine at the sight of his surname. <em> [I’m planning on repairing my Occlumency shortly if you’re in the mood to destroy my painstakingly-constructed seals. Might you escape from your companions for a while?] </em></p><p><em> I am deeply in the mood for that, </em> he sent back. <em> Five minutes. </em> </p><p>Planning their assault on the vault was exciting, but it could only kill Harry’s libido for so long,  and he was going to take whatever Severus offered him tonight, even if it was just words<em>.</em> And Severus was pretty good with his words, anyway. He turned towards his friends, holed up beside him in the little spare bedroom. </p><p>“I’m… uh… going to take a break,” he said, and the others looked up. “I think I might have a shower. Y’know. Clear my head.” </p><p>“Oh, alright,” Hermione yawned. “That might be a good idea. We’ve been at it for hours. Would you like a break, Griphook?”</p><p>“I would,” the goblin grunted. “I am still not quite myself.”</p><p>“Let’s call it,” Harry said. “We’ll start up tomorrow.”</p><p>Ron turned to Hermione. “Care for a nightcap, then?” he asked. “Cocoa, or something like that? We could take it out into the garden. Bring a couple blankets.”</p><p>“That sounds nice, actually.”</p><p>Harry gave Ron a covert thumbs up from behind Hermione’s back. He’d told him about her interest in having a <em> lover, </em> and Ron had turned purple, and said, “y’reakon?” </p><p>Moron. </p><p>As if her reaction to his disappearance hadn’t been a bloody tipoff. It was good to see him making an attempt that didn’t involve violent reenactments, though. Cocoa on a blanket under the stars was a promising start, almost like something out of Ron’s <em> Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches </em>book. Harry had never opened his copy, obviously. He doubted Severus Snape would react positively to anything in there. Compliments? Well, Harry supposed Severus did rather appreciate the many immodest things Harry had said to him since they’d gotten involved. Those were sort of complements, weren’t they? And he did rather like flowers, too. That was kind of an odd thought. </p><p>“We’ll start again bright and early, then,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “Alright?” </p><p>They all agreed, and disbanded, leaving Griphook to rest. Ron and Hermione went down into the kitchen, and Harry, straight to the guest bathroom down the hall. Inside, he locked and warded the door, cast a pair of silencing charms, and pulled up his sleeve.</p><p><em> How do you know it’s ok to mess with your Occlumency? </em>he asked.</p><p>
  <em> [I’ve only just left the Dark Lord’s side] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How was it? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Puerile] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Anything important? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Not even remotely] </em>
</p><p><em> Good, </em> Harry sent. <em> Well, I’m alone. What did you have in mind?  </em></p><p><em> [Whatever is in your mind] </em> came the answer. <em> [Where have you ensconced yourself?] </em></p><p><em> Bathroom, </em> Harry thought. <em> I told the others I was taking a shower. </em></p><p>
  <em> [How devious of you]  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Want to know how my bruises are looking? </em>
</p><p><em> [I’m sure they’re still quite black. The way you sounded I thought I’d broken skin] </em> a silence <em> [Just hearing you that night almost did me in] </em></p><p>Harry’s body flushed hot at the memory. Severus’ teeth clamping down, the feral snarl that came out of him, and the way his body went rigid like it was taking every ounce of willpower he had to keep from coming first. Harry’d felt that loss of control a few other times, too. Like when he’d had his head off the edge of the bed. That memory was intense - painted in bright colors in his mind - though he’d had his eyes tight shut. </p><p><em> You know what I’d like? </em>he asked, leaning back against the door, his heart already pounding. </p><p><em> [Something despicable no doubt] </em> a short pause. <em> [Tell me] </em></p><p>
  <em> I’d like your cock in my mouth. You got that on the beach. I was so jealous. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Jealous that you couldn’t return the favor?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yeah. If you appeared in this bathroom right now you wouldn’t even have the chance to tell me to get on my knees. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Maybe you should get on your knees anyway so I can picture you properly] </em>
</p><p>Harry shivered, and palmed himself through his jeans. He was already hard enough for it to be uncomfortable, and he wondered if Severus was, too. So, he asked, and Severus answered.</p><p>
  <em> [Oh, yes. I’m planning on taking care of myself as soon as I don’t need my wand-hand to talk to you. Care to give me some material to work with?] </em>
</p><p><em> Yes, </em> Harry thought. He liked that idea a lot. <em> Tell me what to do. </em></p><p>
  <em> [I already did] </em>
</p><p><em> Oh. </em> </p><p>He dropped to his knees. </p><p><em> Sir, </em> he thought. </p><p>
  <em> [What a good boy. Undo your trousers for me]  </em>
</p><p>Harry read that and let out a little involuntary whine. Fuck, he really was hurting for it, wasn’t he? It was like having Severus for one night had lit him back on fire<em>. </em></p><p><em> God, I wish I could hear your voice, </em> he sent, and unfastened his jeans.</p><p>
  <em> [Is my voice so evocative to you?] </em>
</p><p><em> Oh, yeah, </em> Harry answered. <em> You used to give me goosebumps all the time, way before I decided I wanted you to fuck me. It used to bother me a lot. It was so confusing. I’d just - hear you - and - And if you called me a good boy out loud right at this moment I would probably come all over you. </em></p><p><em> [What a sight that would be] </em> appeared. <em> [Take yourself in hand and tell me how you feel] </em></p><p>Harry pushed his underwear out of the way and let his cock spring free, grasping it with his left hand and touching the bracelet with his right.</p><p><em>  Fuck, I’m so hard, </em> he thought. <em> I’d give anything to have you here touching me. What would happen if I called you into a Fidelius charm? </em></p><p>
  <em> [I’ve no idea. But certainly I would be beaten to death if your guardians saw me. Particularly if I was coming out of a bathroom with you looking defiled. Are you touching yourself?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yes.  </em>
</p><p>He was. He was stroking himself with just barely enough restraint to be able to read what Severus was sending him. </p><p><em> But it’s not enough, </em> he continued<em>. I want you. I’d kill to have your hands on me. </em></p><p>
  <em> [That sounds like one of my sentiments. Kill to have you? I’d leave a swathe of devastation in my wake. Drag you out of your safehouse and apparate straight to the dungeons. Fuck you against the wall] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Severus - fucking hell - don’t tease me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Say that and try to mean it, Potter] </em>
</p><p><em> I don’t mean it, </em> Harry answered immediately <em> . I just - I’ll take anything. Anything. Even teasing. I’m sorry. Please.  </em></p><p>
  <em> [Oh, Merlin, the things I want to do to you] </em>
</p><p>Harry moaned weakly, imagining Severus in his rooms, alone, wanting him, but unable to touch him. God, what agony. He should just call him and damn the consequences. Severus could have him on the bathroom floor and apparate away and fuck the Fidelius charm.</p><p>But then… this was Severus Snape he was talking to, wasn’t it? Severus Snape, master of mindfuckery. Surely he had something up his sleeve. Harry squeezed the base of his cock to take the edge off.</p><p><em> Severus, </em> he sent. <em> I am dying. Are you telling me that you don’t have more fucked up magic in your brain like that spell that made me cry? That would really hit the spot right now. Just a direct link into your head. And if I cry, fine. Just give me anything before I lose my fucking mind. </em></p><p>There was a silence.</p><p><em> Severus? </em> Harry asked. <em> You just thought of something, didn’t you? </em> And then, when the silence lengthened, <em> oh, now I’m excited. </em></p><p>Finally, Severus answered him.</p><p>
  <em> [you said your magic was strong] </em>
</p><p><em> Yeah, I did, and it is, </em>Harry answered. </p><p>
  <em> [Well, would you like a challenge?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I will do absolutely whatever you say right now. </em>
</p><p><em> [You always do. You’re such a good boy] </em> Harry’s cock throbbed in his hand, and he rested his head back against the wall with a slow exhale. <em> [There is a spell, similar to the one you’re requesting. It’s rather difficult magic, but I think you might be able to manage, seeing as you are the most powerful Wizard on earth. One moment] </em> Harry waited, quite still, wondering what Severus was doing. Maybe he was taking off his clothes. That would be good. <em> [The incantation is not very difficult, but the magic rather is. You’ll need to reach out for me from afar. If I knew where you were, I could do it, but, alas, you are in hiding] </em></p><p><em> Reach out how? </em> Harry asked, trying to make his brain focus on absorbing information instead of how fucking <em> horny </em>he was. Leave it to Severus to make this a lesson. Fucking advanced sex magic, obviously. Maybe advanced sex magic was a Deatheater thing. </p><p><em> [Imagine me as clearly as you can, down to the smallest detail] </em> Severus began. <em> [I’ll assist you with some pertinent specifics. I am on my bed in the dungeons, on my usual side, propped up against the pillows with my ankles crossed. The sheets are the same green as you remember, and I am not wearing anything at all. And I’m rather aroused, of course. Can you picture it?] </em></p><p>Harry swallowed as the image in his mind resolved into clarity. It was easy. He’d seen that sight dozens of times, and he had Severus’ body absolutely memorized. Down to the smallest detail? Down to every tiny scar on his well-used hands. Down to the part in his hair, and the little divot just above his top lip.  </p><p><em> Yes, </em> he sent. <em> I was hoping you were getting naked. And you’re hard, too? My mouth is watering.  </em></p><p>
  <em> [Focus, now. Hold me in your mind as vividly as you can, as if you hoped to make me hear you with the force of your imagining. Then picture the rooms around me. I’ve left them just the same. And around my chambers, the castle, and then the grounds. You know exactly where my body is in space. Then, when you are ready to try, close your eyes, and speak the incantation: Furanturdolis Quaeanimi Sensate, followed by the modifier, Manusliberum. There is a casting gesture, too, but I don’t think you’ll need it. Do you understand?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What’s going to happen? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [You’ll know. Do you have the incantation?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Furanturdolis Quaeanimi Sensate - and then, Manusliberum? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Very good. You’re such an excellent listener when there's an orgasm on the table. Go on. Cast out towards me, and speak the words] </em>
</p><p>Harry frowned, but closed his eyes as Severus instructed, and tried to ‘cast out.’ He figured it must be kind of like just <em> wanting </em> Severus, which he very badly did. So he just wanted him extra hard, and sent out his wanting with the picture of Severus’ exact position in his rooms, and whispered the words. For a moment, nothing happened, but then there was the sensation of a long-fingered hand on his thigh, <em> inside his pant leg, </em> and he jumped.</p><p>
  <em> What the fuck is that?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [That’s my hand on my own body. Can you feel it?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Oh, shit, are you kidding me? Is this dark magic or something? </em>
</p><p>The invisible hand on his thigh gave him a pinch, and he jumped again. <em> [Of course it's dark. What am I, a stranger?] </em></p><p>
  <em> How are you doing that? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I’m afraid it’s you who’s doing it, Harry. And very well, it seems. You’re stealing the sensations from my body. Just the touch of my hands, though, as determined by the modifier. No extra spillover from my psyche this time] </em>
</p><p>The hand slid up a little higher and cupped him between the legs, and Harry pressed his hips forward. </p><p>
  <em> But - how are you - talking? Isn’t your - casting hand - busy? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I put a hovering charm on my wand. But don’t mind that, now. And take your hands away so you can feel me] </em>
</p><p><em> Yes, sir. </em>Harry let go of himself and immediately his hand was replaced by Severus’ own, almost a thousand kilometers away, solid, and familiar, and absolutely real. He touched his bracelet and sent some kind of garbled gibberish.</p><p><em> [Well, that was interesting. What were you trying to say?] </em>The hand began to tease up and down his length, skirting around the base and up to the head, giving a little squeeze here and there like he was trying to drive Harry insane. And he probably was trying to do that, because that was the sort of man Severus was.</p><p><em> I’ve no - idea - fuck - </em> Harry moaned out loud and then covered his mouth. But then, he took his hand away. He’d cast a silencing charm. Two of them. <em> Severus - that feels - </em></p><p><em> [Good?] </em>The hand tightened and stroked him once, very firmly, root to tip, and then another hand appeared very briefly on Harry’s other leg, running trim fingernails up his inner thigh and into the crease of his hip before disappearing again. A shiver of goosebumps followed in its wake. Severus knew he was ticklish, the bastard. </p><p><em> God I don’t know if this is better or worse than doing myself, </em> Harry thought. <em> I want to touch you so bad. I - need to. </em></p><p><em> [Unfortunately, you cannot. But this is good enough for me. Keep talking] </em> Severus’ fingers swept through the bead of pre-come that had pearled up at the tip of Harry’s cock, and then vanished, and Harry suddenly felt them press against his tongue. The sensation was bizarre - his mouth was closed - but not unpleasant. He liked Severus’ fingers a lot, even when they weren’t really there. And then the touch reappeared on his cock, but wet, and Severus’ words clicked home in his brain. <em> ‘That’s my hand on my own body.’ </em></p><p><em> Oh, fuck, did you just put your fingers in your mouth? </em>Harry asked.</p><p>
  <em> [Yes, I did] </em>
</p><p>Harry’s hips jerked up. <em> I - will die - if I - can’t see you. </em></p><p><em> [You’ll be quite alright] </em> Harry could practically hear the tone of his voice. The low, unaffected drawl that he put on when he was enjoying Harry’s torment, and trying to pretend that he himself wasn’t feeling just the same thing. <em> [Would you like more?] </em></p><p>
  <em> YES. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Come now, Potter. Where are your manners?] </em>
</p><p>Harry’s breath huffed out of him in a desperate, exasperated whine. He wanted manners, did he? FINE.</p><p><em>Please?</em> he sent back, grateful that the bracelets didn’t translate tone. <em>Please, more. Please. Please. Fucking ghost handjob Jesus Christ almighty. Oh shit - </em>He pulled his finger away with a little flinch and then put it back. <em>Sorry. I didn’t mean to send that last bit. </em></p><p><em> [Don’t apologize. Your messages are quite fascinating when you’re not in control of yourself] </em> The hand around him twisted up to the head and then back down to the base in a neat, tight spiral, and Harry moaned again, his finger still held to the silver. <em> [Mm. Like that. Just a string of indecipherable nonsense and profanity. That’s what I like to see] </em></p><p><em> Is this how you touch yourself? </em>Harry thought, fighting hard to think of something coherent as Severus’ hand continued to stroke him.</p><p>
  <em> [Yes. How do you like it?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I -  </em>
</p><p>The touch sped up, and any articulate answer was banished from his mind.</p><p><em> [I never thought I’d ever enjoy your unlettered babbling so much] </em> Severus traced that spiral again, up and down, and up and down, and then his hand disappeared and reappeared slick with lubrication. <em> [It’s quite heady seeing the effect I have on you in words. Or in attempted words, I suppose] </em></p><p>Harry didn’t answer that. He couldn’t. He just clutched at the bathmat under his knees, bucking his hips up and wanting fiercely to bury his face into Severus’ neck, or his chest, or to touch him <em> at all, </em> anywhere on his body. To see him, or smell him, or hear his voice, or fucking <em> anything. </em> His bracelet warmed again and he forced his left hand to release so he could see.</p><p>
  <em> [Oh, I do believe you are overwrought. Would you like me to finish you off? I’ll stop if you don’t answer] </em>
</p><p>Harry touched one finger to the cuff and just let whatever was in his brain pour out. It probably wasn’t even coming out as any human language on the other end, but he didn’t care. </p><p><em> [I see] </em> appeared. <em> [I think I might like both hands for this] </em></p><p>The bracelet went dark, and the hand on Harry’s cock was joined by a second - Severus’ left - down between his legs. It pinched him again on the thigh, and he yelped, and then sucked his yelp back in as fingertips stroked over his balls, cupping them gently, and then moved further back to tease at him. They circled his hole, pressing just gently against it, and the other hand tightened, sliding over his skin with the finesse of a sculptor. And Severus was playing with himself that way? </p><p>Holy <em> god. </em> </p><p>Harry squeezed his eyes shut, desperately imagining how Severus must look right at that moment - one hand on his cock, the other between his legs, pleasuring himself, naked on his bed - and - Harry was going to come. Did that mean Severus was going to come? </p><p>He cried out, clutching his bracelet, calling up that <em> face </em> Severus made when he was about to get off. And - and <em> - </em> the <em> noise </em> he made - the way his hands <em> tightened </em> - fucking <em> hell -  </em></p><p>The second hand disappeared, and Harry’s wrist warmed, and he opened his eyes to see.</p><p><em> [My god, Potter, what filth] </em> flickered into life. <em> [You’re going to make me-] </em></p><p>That was enough - the mere suggestion that Severus was about to come in his own hand - that Harry was going to <em> make him </em>- and he was overtaken, shaking, his voice cracking, digging his fingers into the fibers of the mat under him and curling forward so forcefully that his glasses fell right off his face.</p><p>But Severus did not stop. The hand continued to move long past Harry’s initial spasm, and he whimpered at the overstimulation, and then almost <em> screamed </em> as the fingers around him started to slip in a mess of what must be Severus’ own release as it spurted out. Because that was <em> obscene, </em> and he was pretty sure that he would never ever recover. Not <em> ever. </em></p><p>“Fuck-” he gasped, his hips twitching up off the floor and then recoiling with the dual sensations of <em> too much </em> and <em> more. </em> “Oh - fuck - <em> fuck.” </em> He touched his bracelet and said it again, though he had no idea if Severus was looking or not, and slowly, slowly, the hand around him began to gentle, touching him carefully, and Harry collapsed back against the door, panting. “Jesus…” he whispered, and the hand went away and returned clean and dry. It stroked over his thigh, and his hip, and up towards his ribs under his clothes, just the way Severus liked to touch him when they were both quite spent. Harry tried to press forward into it, but of course, it made no difference. This magic didn’t seem to allow for <em> cuddling, </em>did it? Just hands. </p><p>A message appeared. </p><p>
  <em> [How was it?] </em>
</p><p>Harry squinted down at his wrist. <em> That could drive someone mad, </em> he answered, focusing hard to ensure the words came through clearly. He gestured tremulously at the mess he’d made to vanish it. <em> Specifically me. Tip me right over into lunacy. Fuck. </em></p><p><em> [It has been used for that, yes] </em> Severus answered. <em> [As I said. Dark] </em></p><p>
  <em> Well sign me up for the Dark Arts.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Very funny] </em>
</p><p>Severus’ hand slid up over Harry’s chest to his throat, resting there for a moment like he was feeling his pulse, before moving to his cheek, and then into his hair. Harry closed his eyes with a little moan.</p><p><em> God, that feels good, </em> he thought. <em> Severus…  </em></p><p>
  <em> [Yes?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Can I call you just to kiss you? I really want to. </em>
</p><p><em> [Better not] </em> came the answer<em>. [I would likely be unable to resist if you did, and I cannot appear] </em> The hand moved back to his cheek and patted it twice. <em> [Countercharm now, my love. Focus. Rediadid dominus] </em></p><p><em> Aw. Can’t I keep you a little longer? </em> Harry asked. <em> Forever, ideally. </em></p><p><em> [Maybe a bit longer] </em> Severus sent, and his fingers curled around Harry’s jaw, leaving his thumb free to brush across his bottom lip. <em> [Merlin, I love you. If only I could see you] </em></p><p><em> You want to see me limp on a bathroom floor? </em> Harry asked, and Severus’ hand tightened, and then tipped his chin up, and the impression that he was about to be kissed was so incredibly strong that his lips parted of their own accord. <em> God, that’s torture, </em> he sent. <em> Fuck. Just - </em> He shook his head hard, raking his hands through his hair to banish the sudden flood of crippling disappointment. </p><p>“<em>Rediadid Dominus,” </em> he said, and knocked his head back against the wall with a groan. Then he took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and returned his finger to his cuff. <em> All done, </em> he sent. <em> No more ghost hands. </em></p><p>There was a short pause, before <em> [That was abrupt] </em>appeared, and Harry let out a single bark of mirthless laughter. </p><p><em> Sorry, </em> he sent. <em> I couldn’t take it anymore.  </em></p><p><em> [My apologies] </em> Severus sent. <em> [Have I frustrated you? I meant to do quite the opposite] </em></p><p><em> A little bit, </em> Harry answered. <em> But it’s ok. </em></p><p>
  <em> [I’ve frustrated myself as well, I fear] </em>
</p><p>That gave Harry pause. <em> Have you?  </em></p><p>
  <em> [Oh, yes. As you say, torture] </em>
</p><p>He looked up at the neat stucco of Bill and Fleur’s tidy guest bathroom. Somehow the clarity of his image of Severus in his rooms had not faded, and for a moment, his longing felt just as strong as it had the day he found the yarrow. <em> Because I’m too far away, and you can’t come to me, </em> he thought. <em> And I can’t come to you. </em></p><p><em> [Yes] </em> Severus answered. <em> [And I would tunnel through the center of the earth to get at you just now] </em></p><p>Harry sighed. <em> What would you want if you could have it? </em></p><p>
  <em> [At this moment, or fifteen minutes ago?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> At this moment. I know exactly what you would have wanted fifteen minutes ago. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [You reduce me to my animal ancestors. I do not deny it. But if I could have anything in the world at this moment, it would be the smell of your hair] </em>
</p><p>Somehow that hadn’t been what Harry expected, and his eyes suddenly burned with the traitorous prick of tears.</p><p><em> Severus, </em> he said, but stopped himself. <em> Nevermind. </em></p><p>
  <em> [Oh, I’ve made it worse, haven’t I?] </em>
</p><p><em> No, </em> Harry answered, even though yes, he had. <em> I just - miss you. Bad. </em></p><p>
  <em> [And I, you. Like an amputated limb] </em>
</p><p>Harry laughed a little, and wiped his eyes. <em> Romantic, </em> he sent.</p><p>
  <em> [Our ideas about romance fit very nicely together] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Soulmates? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Of the most specific kind] </em>
</p><p>Harry wiped his eyes again, and clambered to his feet to turn on the water. He’d said he was going to take a shower, and he probably should, just in case. Hermione, at least, might give him a <em> look </em> if he came out of the bathroom dry and unwashed. If she wasn’t too busy with Ron out in the garden, of course. A little spike of jealousy struck him at the thought, and he shook it off.</p><p><em> Severus? </em> he asked.</p><p>
  <em> [Yes?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How are your barriers?  </em>
</p><p><em> [In absolute tatters] </em> Severus answered. <em> [You ruin me, as usual] </em></p><p><em> Good, </em> Harry said, stripping off his clothes<em>. I’m glad I’m not the only one in tatters. </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry slept like the dead that night, and when he woke up, he found that he felt unexpectedly good, so he woke Ron and Dean up too, and they went into the kitchen together to make tea for the house. Ron seemed somewhat suspicious of his buoyant demeanor, but he didn’t ask, and when the girls came down, they had everything ready for them. Harry poured, and Dean arranged the fixings, and Ron distributed the mugs. He served Hermione first, who blushed and smiled shyly at him, then Luna, who gave him a very vague sort of wave, and finally Fleur, who he did not look at very closely at all. When Bill came in shortly after his wife, he gave Harry a solemn nod and made himself coffee. </p><p>The scene was very domestic, and sitting at the counter watching the others chatting happily over their hot drinks, Harry felt sad again. So, he touched his bracelet under his sleeve.</p><p><em> Morning, Severus, </em> he sent. <em> Thanks for last night. Everything put back to rights? I hope so. Love you. </em></p><p>He sent it all at once like that because he didn't expect Severus to be able to answer him. Term must have started by then, which usually meant far less opportunity to speak during the day. But Severus did answer him. Almost instantly, in fact.</p><p><em> [Oh, yes. My terrible appetite for pleasing you is fully concealed once more] </em> appeared. <em> [And I love you, of course] </em></p><p>Harry smiled. <em> Does it go without saying? </em>he asked.</p><p>Over his head, the others were watching what he was doing with various levels of confusion, but Harry didn’t look up to see. He was focused on his cuff.</p><p><em> [Certainly not] </em> Severus said<em>. [I plan on saying it until you’re quite annoyed and would prefer to be left alone] </em></p><p>
  <em> Ha! Good luck with that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [It is a challenge I shall gladly accept] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“It is a challenge I shall gladly accept,” Severus said, and pulled his sleeve back down over his wrist. He’d dashed into the loo to answer. He foresaw doing that rather a lot, and wondered if the other Professors would think he’d come down with some sort of condition. Probably they would wish one on him, if they could. Gastric upset was the least of their hopes for his punishment, after all. </p><p>He washed his hands in the sink for propriety’s sake, and then went back out into the school. Easter Holiday had only just ended, and the student body had returned in full force the morning before. Well, perhaps not <em> full </em> force. Quite a few students had not reappeared. Luna Lovegood, of course, who hadn’t returned after Christmas, and now seemed to be with Harry, and Ginevra Weasely, and many others. Ginevra, he had been very glad not to see return, for after Harry’s capture, the entire Deatheater corps had known immediately that the Weasleys weren’t just blood-traitors with “unacceptable pro-muggle leanings,” but were, in fact, working actively against the Dark Lord’s regime. Poor girl would have been tortured to death. But she’d escaped, and Harry and his friends had escaped and were safe under the care of a Fidelius charm, and Harry had sent him all sorts of ungodly foolishness the night before, and Severus’ wards had come back together relatively easily afterwards, and it was a very good day. </p><p>He almost whistled as he left the lavatory, but managed to stop himself, twisting his face into its usual dour frown with no small effort. But then he thought of Harry calling him “very scary,” and then of a particularly noteworthy message that had contained no less than five unique expletives, and it broke again. </p><p><em> Lovesick, </em> he thought. <em> Severus Snape, you are LOVE. SICK. Think of something else and get that absurd expression off your face. No thinking about Harry on his knees in a bathroom somewhere so incoherent that he couldn’t even put two words together. No. None of that, and none of his revelation about your voice, either. Think about something else, you moony twat. </em></p><p>He thought about Draco, instead.</p><p> </p><p>Draco had returned to school with the others, which Severus hadn’t dared hope for. Either his Occlumency was stronger than Severus supposed, or the Dark Lord suspected him of incompetence instead of treachery. Whatever had saved him, he was alive, and at school, and when Severus first saw him appear with the other Slytherins, bearing the marks of his punishment and the pitying and disgusted gazes of his housemates, he almost approached him. But he withheld the urge, and the moment of madness passed. So, instead, Severus waited until dinner that evening, and caught his eye from the high table. It was easy. Draco had already been looking at him, and when their eyes met, he raised his eyebrows, and Severus gave him a tiny nod.</p><p>Draco never asked him out loud - he was too smart for that, now - but Severus knew what he meant, anyway.</p><p>
  <em> Did I do it right? </em>
</p><p>And Severus’ answer: </p><p>
  <em> Yes. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>But they never spoke of it. Not once.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Godfather</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The inhabitants of Shell Cottage could hardly fail to notice that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were up to something, as they were spending pretty much every waking moment holed up in Griphook’s little bedroom. They only emerged for meals, in fact, and every time they did, Harry half expected to be split up and interrogated again. But no one tried. Even Bill left them alone, though he did continue to watch Harry from afar in a concerned, thoughtful sort of way. But he didn’t seem angry, so Harry let it pass. He was used to being stared at, and as long as Bill didn’t try to interfere with their work, it didn’t matter. </p><p>Slowly, as they planned and schemed the days away, the captives from Malfoy Manor began to heal. Ollivander, still very frail, was sent to Ron’s Auntie Muriel’s, where most of the Weasley’s had fled, and Luna and Dean seemed almost back to normal. Luna, at least, seemed as normal as she had ever been, and chattered nonstop about all sorts of bizarre things. It was nice, almost like a little vacation back to life before the war. Wrackspurts and dirigible plums and Crumple-horned Snorkacks and whatever else.</p><p>So, one Friday evening found the remaining denizens of the house enjoying a bit of conversation together in the living room. Even Griphook had come down from his bedroom, though he seemed even less impressed with Luna’s prattle than the others.</p><p>“Daddy’s trying to recreate the lost diadem of Ravenclaw,” she was saying, and Harry and Ron grinned at each other behind her back. They’d seen the ludicrous thing at Xenophilious’ house, and doubted it could make anyone even a single whit smarter. “He thinks he’s identified most of the main elements now. Adding the billywig wings really made a diff-” </p><p>
  <em> BANG BANG BANG. </em>
</p><p>Everyone in the room leapt to their feet and pointed their wands at the door, except Griphook, who very silently slid to the floor behind the coffee table. And Harry, of course, who didn’t need a wand. Bill held up a hand to silence the others, and moved closer, his wand en guard. </p><p>“Who is it?” he called through the wood.</p><p>“It is I, Remus John Lupin!” came the answer, barely audible over the sea wind howling in the eves. “I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret-Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!” </p><p>Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry, standing between them, and then back at Bill.</p><p>“But - Lupin?” Bill gasped, wrenching open the door. “Lupin! What’s happened?”</p><p>Remus fell over the threshold, windswept and white-faced, and when he straightened up, he opened his arms wide and cried out his emergency. </p><p>“It’s a boy! We - we’ve named him Ted, after Dora’s father! Teddy! Teddy Lupin! A boy!” </p><p>Hermione shrieked, and the room exploded in congratulations. Harry just watched from the edge, silent as a statue, as Bill embraced Lupin and grasped his hand, and Luna and Fleur hugged each other and squealed in delight. Harry felt frozen in indecision. Should he leave? Go upstairs, or outside? Or should he pretend everything was fine? Congratulate him, and withdraw? At least the mark on his neck had healed by that point. Small mercy. </p><p>Ron touched his shoulder and he jumped. </p><p>“Mate,” Ron whispered. “Do your arm thing. C’mon. He won’t try anything. Or, if he does, I’ll take care of it like I did before, ok?” </p><p>“Right,” Harry whispered, but as he moved to touch his trigger point, he realized with a small jolt that he didn’t need it. There was no rush of panic threatening to overwhelm him. There were no sparkles in his eyes, and he could breathe fine. He was just sort of… surprised.</p><p>He wasn’t afraid.</p><p>Severus would be so proud. </p><p> </p><p>“Where’s Harry?” Lupin was asking, and faces started to turn. But he didn’t shy back. He just stood still and waited. “Is Harry here? I heard he was. Where is he?” </p><p> </p><p>Of course he wasn’t afraid. Why should he be? Harry wasn’t even afraid of the Dark Lord, now. Not really. And Lupin wasn’t trying to kill him. He was trying to… help him. Sort of. Just in a really incompetent way. </p><p>It was sad, really. </p><p>He squared his shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>“Harry! There you are!” Catching sight of him, Lupin strode over with one hand outstretched, but Ron immediately blocked his path, and he stopped. “Oh. Hullo, Ron,” he said, giving him a crooked smile. “Still on guard duty, I see.”</p><p>“Just now, yeah,” Ron answered, crossing his arms, and a hush fell over the room. “What do you want him for?”</p><p>“I just… wanted to talk to him,” Remus said slowly. “That’s all.” He gave Harry a contrite grimace over Ron’s shoulder. “I take it you didn’t hear me on Potterwatch, then.”</p><p>“I heard you,” Harry answered. “My instincts are good and right, isn’t that what you said?” He laid his hand on Ron’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “It’s ok, mate. It’s fine.” Ron gave Lupin an icy glare and stood aside, and Harry very cautiously offered his hand to shake. “A baby, huh? Congratulations.” </p><p>“Yes,” Lupin said breathlessly, taking his hand with no small relief. “A boy. Healthy, and strong.” He hesitated, looking down at their clasped hands. “Harry,” he began. “My son, Teddy. I mean… Dora and I are in agreement. No one better. If you aren’t still too angry with me, that is. She seems to think - she told me to - well.” He took a deep breath. “Will you - Harry. Will you be Teddy’s Godfather?” He looked back up, his expression fearful.</p><p>And that was not at all what Harry had been expecting.</p><p>“G-godfather?” Harry stammered. “Me?” He’d been ready to fight. Or, at the very least, get screamed at again. But… this? What? “But… why? I thought you - ” Suddenly, without warning, Lupin embraced him.</p><p>“Oi!” Ron exclaimed, and Hermione seized his arm.</p><p>“Just wait!” she hissed. “Don’t go punching him just yet!”</p><p>“You told me I didn’t belong with you. You told me to go home to my wife,” Lupin choked out, squeezing Harry so tight his ribs creaked. “You were right, Harry. You were so right. I tried to tell you - on the radio. I didn’t know if you ever heard me, or where you were, or how to contact you. I tried to tell you. To thank you-” He let Harry go. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Harry. For making it worse. For making everything harder on you when you’d been… I mean. I never meant to - hurt you. Or scare you. Or make you feel like I - Like I-” He stopped, and looked at Bill, and then back at Harry, his eyes swimming with tears. “Can you forgive me? Will you be Teddy’s Godfather? Will you be a - a part of - our family?”</p><p>“I mean…” Everyone was staring at them. Bill and Fleur and Luna and Dean and Hermione and Ron and Griphook, who had stuck his head out from behind the coffee table to watch. What was he supposed to say? Fuck off? “Yeah. ‘Course. ‘Course I will, Lupin. Congratulations.” Harry offered his hand again, but Lupin just hugged him, and the room burst into joyous conversation. </p><p>“Wine!” Bill exclaimed, and went into the kitchen.</p><p>“How’s your face?” Harry asked, his arms stiff and awkward at his sides as Lupin laughed weakly and squeezed him one more time before releasing him.</p><p>“Oh, Dora set me right in a trice,” he said. “You’ve got a mean right hook, though, Ron.” He tapped his chin with one finger as Bill returned with goblets and a pair of bottles. “Broken in two places.”</p><p>“Knew it,” Ron said. </p><p>“‘Oo does ‘e look like?” Fluer asked, as Bill passed out the wine.</p><p>“I think he looks like Dora,” Lupin answered. He sounded quite giddy, and watching him with the others, Harry thought that Remus Lupin looked years younger than Harry had ever seen him. Transformed, by the new life he’d created. For now, at least. “But Dora thinks he’s like me.”</p><p>With the attention at least marginally off of him, Harry retreated towards the kitchen, and Ron followed after. Just outside the doorway, Harry leaned against the wall and scrubbed a hand over his face. He might not have been scared, but he was a little sweaty.</p><p>“Bloody miracle,” Ron muttered under his breath. “Judgmental bastard.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry answered, watching Luna and Fleur breathlessly asking questions, and Bill, Dean, and Lupin talking animatedly. Hermione was flapping her hands in excitement, and interrogating Lupin as to the baby’s changing hair colors over the others. “Change of heart, I guess. Maybe Tonks set him straight.”</p><p>“Well, I was ready to punch him again.”</p><p>“I know,” Harry laughed. “I could tell.” He pulled up his sleeve.</p><p><em> Severus? </em>he began, hoping there wouldn’t be much of a delay.</p><p><em> [Yes?] </em>appeared within seconds, and Harry let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.</p><p>
  <em> I’m a Godfather. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I think that message came through garbled] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lupin had a baby. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [And he… asked you to be the Godfather?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yep. </em>
</p><p><em> [That is certainly… a development] </em> a pause. <em> [What did you say?] </em></p><p>
  <em> I said yes. I didn’t really have a choice. </em>
</p><p>Back in the center of conversation, Hermione let out a squeal of delight as Remus regaled her with tales of a tiny baby with bubble-gum pink hair and a squall that could raise the dead. Apparently Teddy Lupin was already a metamorphmagus of the highest degree, though he was only hours old.</p><p>
  <em> [Is the mark I gave you gone?] </em>
</p><p>Harry touched the spot. <em> Mostly, yeah. You can hardly see it. </em></p><p>
  <em> [Pity] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You just love conflict, don’t you? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I just love you, and if he saw the mark he’d know it] </em>
</p><p>Harry laughed a little and leaned his head back against the wall, and Ron gave him a questioning look. Harry just waved him off, though, so he turned back to watch the others. Just like a bloody security detail. </p><p>
  <em> He said he never meant to hurt me. Did I ever tell you why Ron hit him? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [No] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He shook me. He did it at the Burrow, too. Screamed at me, and shook me, and told me that you raped me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I don’t particularly like that] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No, I didn’t like it much, either.  </em>
</p><p>There was a rather long silence, and Harry was pretty sure Severus was trying to think of a diplomatic way to threaten Lupin with reprisal. Probably something about letting Harry decide if he needed to be punished or not.</p><p>
  <em> [If he remains friendly to you I suppose I shall… tolerate him] </em>
</p><p>Harry burst out laughing and then quickly covered his mouth. Ron raised his eyebrows, but when he saw Harry’s expression, he just gave him a little nod like he was pleased that Harry was laughing, and looked away.</p><p><em> You make me feel so safe, </em> Harry sent.</p><p><em> [That is quite the compliment] </em>Severus answered.</p><p>
  <em> It’s not a compliment, it’s just a fact. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Let me give you a fact as well, then. You are the most beloved figure in all the Wizarding World, and the notion that you have somehow chosen me as the focus of your affections is unlikely enough to make me question reality] </em>
</p><p>Harry read that and frowned. <em> Thank you? </em></p><p>
  <em> [And by that I also meant thank you] </em>
</p><p>Harry heaved a great sigh, wishing terribly that Severus was close enough to touch. Wishing he was curled up beside him on the sofa in his dungeon quarters in front of the fire, with a glass of wine and a book, instead of in this house with all these people. Wishing the war was over, and the secrecy was over, and the lies were over, and they could just be together. Together for real, where other people could see. </p><p>Well, that was a little closer every day, wasn’t it? The end of all the bullshit. The end of everyone thinking Severus Snape was a <em>murderous</em> <em>rapist</em> instead of a kind, brave, generous, powerful man.</p><p><em> I’m thinking of trying to talk to him outside before he leaves, </em> Harry thought to him. <em> Should I? </em></p><p>
  <em> [Whatever for?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He thinks you’re a predator. </em>
</p><p><em> [Many do, unfortunately] </em> Severus answered. <em> [I would let it lie. But if you choose to try to convince him of my morality, let me know what he says] </em></p><p>Harry pulled his sleeve back down. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Lupin did not want to stay long, not with a new baby at home, and when he made his third round of goodbyes, Harry offered to walk him out to the wards. Ron, Hermione, and Bill all seemed alarmed by that suggestion, and Ron tried to come with him, but Harry just gave him a look, and he backed off. So they left the cottage together, and as the door closed behind them, Harry had a feeling that everyone would be waiting for him when he came back in, just like they’d been waiting for him at the Burrow after he walked Severus out that last, awful Christmas. But Harry wasn’t worried about that. It felt petty, just like everything else that had come before Dumbledore’s death. Silly, and petty, and childish.</p><p> </p><p>Outside, he strode with Lupin to the edge of the garden in silence, and then stopped, and turned to face him.</p><p>“So,” he said, and crossed his arms. </p><p>“So,” Lupin agreed. He put his hands in his pockets. It was a gesture that was getting pretty familiar to Harry: the Remus Lupin version of <em> I mean you no harm. </em> “I take it you… have something else to say?”</p><p>“Yeah, I do,” Harry began. “I want something from you.”</p><p>Lupin shrugged his shoulders minutely with a sad, ironic sort of grin. “Is it a more specific apology?” </p><p>“No,” Harry answered. “I just want you to listen to what I have to say. Can you give me that much?”</p><p>“Of course I’ll listen, Harry. What is it?”</p><p>Harry looked out at the turbulent sea. It was dark, and the stars were numerous in the wind-swept night. Maybe he could bring Severus here some day, after the war. It seemed like the sort of place he’d like.</p><p>“You’re going to want to interrupt me, but don’t,” Harry started, waiting for Lupin to nod before continuing. “Fine. Well. I know you don’t understand what went on between Severus and I-” He held up a hand as Remus immediately opened his mouth to speak. “No. No interrupting, right? Just listen. I know you don’t understand it, but I need you to understand this. Severus never did anything but help me. I would have lost it after Sirius died if it wasn’t for him - and - Lupin, listen! He never did anything to me that I didn’t want him to do, either. I’m of age, so you can just hear it, ok? He <em> never did anything to me that I did not want him to do. </em>If you trusted me before, trust me now. Trust that I know what I am doing, and that I understand what I am saying. Ok?” Harry paused for breath, and dropped his hand. “You can speak now.”</p><p>Lupin opened and closed his mouth twice before answering. “But… Harry,” he finally said. “He murdered Albus. You were right there. You were the one that told us.”</p><p>Unspoken in his words were the other things Harry had said and done that night. The hysteria. The screaming. The shattered windows. </p><p>“I know that,” he said. “I remember all of that. And I knew about the prophecy months before you told me in your letter, too. I already knew, because Severus told me. He told me about my parents, and what going back to the Dark Lord after Lily died did to him, and - everything, really. He told me everything.”</p><p>“Harry…” Remus began slowly, like he was formulating his next sentence very carefully. “You know that I’ve been undercover among the werewolves, don’t you?” Harry nodded. “Well - many of them are allied with the Deatheaters, and I - I’ve heard some… things.”</p><p>“Let me guess,” Harry answered coolly. “You heard that Severus drugged, raped, and tortured me for a year, and that all of the Deatheaters are very impressed by that, and now he has Draco Malfoy to abuse instead, and it’s a very cozy arrangement.”</p><p>Lupin looked stunned. “I - yes. But -” </p><p>“I <em> know,” </em> Harry spoke over him. “He told me that, too. And I bet when you heard it you thought it confirmed your worst fears. But I want you to use your brains for a second, alright? Just use your fucking brains. Think. Do you <em> really believe </em> that <em> Severus Snape </em> drugged, raped, and tortured <em> me </em> for a <em> YEAR </em> in the dungeons at <em> Hogwarts?” </em>He crossed his arms again and waited. </p><p>“I - well. I mean…” </p><p>“The Deatheaters are stupid, but you aren’t. So you tell me. How in God’s name would Dumbledore have failed to notice that? And why the <em> fuck </em> would I be standing here saying this to you if it was true?”</p><p>“Well… Albus failed to notice that Snape was planning on killing him, didn’t he?” </p><p>It did not escape Harry’s notice that Remus neglected to address his second question, and Lupin’s voice snarling the words <em> captor bonding </em> floated up out of his memories. <em> Captor bonding </em> and <em> used </em> and <em> insane </em> and <em> what is wrong with you? </em> Harry took a deep breath. Severus would want him to hold his temper. </p><p>“Did he?” he asked evenly, and when Lupin did not answer, he pressed his thumb into his wrist. But, as usual, it didn’t work on <em> murderous indignation, </em> so he took it away again. He could feel his magic crackling under his skin, itching to be released with his fury at this <em> man </em>thinking he knew anything at all. What might Severus say, if he appeared? What might Severus say to Remus Lupin, who had the audacity to come here asking for Harry’s love and affection after everything else?</p><p>He looked back out at the sea, calling up the sound of Severus’ voice in his mind. Vindictive and wrathful. Manipulative, scornful, and so clear that it was almost as if Severus was standing right behind him, whispering into his ear: <em> He thinks he can judge us, does he? Is he so much better, so much purer, a wolf among wolves with his young wife at home? A spy in his glass house, casting stones. </em></p><p>“Look,” Harry began. “Let me ask you something else. How does it feel to be undercover with the werewolves?”</p><p>Lupin seemed rather startled by the sudden change in subject. “Oh, well… It’s - stressful,” he said.</p><p>“Is it a lot of <em> pressure?” </em> Harry asked pointedly. “Do you have to be on guard at all times, fearing for your life?”</p><p>“I… yes.”</p><p>“And have you had to do terrible things? Awful things that no one you love could ever understand?” Even in the low light, Harry could see Lupin’s face drain of color, and he withheld his sneer of satisfaction with difficulty. “I thought so,” he continued. “Well, I’m not going to ask you, so don’t worry. But try to put aside your <em> feelings </em> about Severus Snape for a moment, alright? Just put those aside, and think hard about Dumbledore, and about me. Think about how well you knew Dumbledore before he died, and how much faith you had in him, and about how he left me this job while I was still in school. Odd thing to do, really, leaving something so important to an underaged Wizard with an entire year of training left. Why would someone so <em> smart </em> do something like that? Why would he rush so fast? And for that matter, Lupin, why would Albus Dumbledore try to convince you not to go to the Governors?”</p><p>Remus opened his mouth like he was intending to speak, but no words came out. </p><p>“All I want is for you to think about it, ok?” Harry continued. “Think about <em> why </em> Dumbledore might have done all that, and <em> why </em> I might still be having this same fucking conversation with you after a <em> year and a half, </em> and about who, exactly, is in charge of what I do with my own body. Is it Dumbledore? Is it you? Or the Governors? Or the Dark Lord, maybe?” He let out a single, derisive scoff. “Think it over.” He turned back towards the house. “You can go, now. Go back to your <em> family.”  </em></p><p>“Harry, wait,” Lupin said, grabbing his arm and then releasing it immediately like his hand had acted of its own accord. Harry turned back around, his expression carefully neutral. </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Are you… how are you?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m fine,” he answered. “Better than ever, really.”</p><p>“That’s good,” Lupin said, searching his eyes. “That’s… really good to hear.”</p><p>“Yeah, well. Congratulations again,” Harry said. “I hope I can meet Teddy some day.”</p><p>“I hope so, too,” Remus answered, and offered his hand one more time. Harry shook it once, and turned to go. As he walked away, he heard the crack of apparition behind him, and had the single, lingering Snape-ish thought: <em> Imbecile. </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> [How did it go?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fine. I basically just told him you never did anything to me that I didn’t want. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [And did he believe you?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He said he’s heard rumors from some of the other werewolves. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I see] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yeah. So I told him to use his head. Actually, the phrase I used was, ‘use your fucking brains.’ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [You didn’t tell him anything specific, though, did you?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No. Mostly I just asked him if he’s had to do anything terrible undercover. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [How cutting. What did he say?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Nothing. He just got pale.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I’m not surprised. I can’t imagine he is having a better time than I am] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> No. I don’t think he is.  </em>
</p><p>Harry turned onto his side on the floor, scrunching his pillow up under his head. The others had, indeed, been waiting for him when he came back inside, but they hadn’t interrogated him. Ron just gave him a questioning look, and Harry nodded, and that was all. Everyone else just wanted to talk about the new baby, and after a while, it was time to go to bed. So, Harry laid down between Dean and Ron, and everyone else went upstairs, and he reached out to Severus, and here he was. </p><p><em> Can I ask you something? </em>Harry asked.</p><p>
  <em> [Of course] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What’s the worst thing you’ve had to do? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [In my life, or in the recent past?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Recent, I suppose. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Leaving you in the grounds] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And in your life? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Leaving you in the grounds] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The way Harry spoke to him over the next while gave Severus the impression that he was very busy, and developing some kind of plan of action, though what it might be, he had no idea. Whatever it was, it was probably reckless and bizarre, like whatever mad methods the three of them had used to break into the ministry. And though he was filled with an aggravating mixture of anxiety and curiosity, he asked only once. </p><p><em> [I can’t tell you] </em> Harry answered, and when Severus asked if it was dangerous, he just said <em> [Yep] </em></p><p>So, he let it alone. Harry seemed focused, and if not exactly happy, not distressed, either. And that lack of distress was to be treasured as far as Severus was concerned, so when Severus spoke to him he tried to keep it light. They spoke of frivolous things, and practical things, and humorous things, and, as he’d expected, he found himself dashing into the bathroom, and into his office, and sometimes even skulking behind statuary to answer more quickly. That wasn’t really that suspicious, though. He had a long history of skulking, and he was in no mood to make Harry wait to hear from him, even if all he had time to say was, <em> ‘good morning,’ </em> or, <em> ‘I love you,’ </em> or, <em> ‘make sure you’re eating.’ </em></p><p>Late at night, though, when the castle was asleep and Severus was securely locked away in his rooms, they could talk more freely. So Severus did his best to save the more emotionally fraught conversations for those times. Flirtation and explicit discussion of wants and needs, of course, but also more serious things. It was late at night, for example, that Severus first told Harry about his new arrangement with Draco. </p><p>Once the school year had hit stride, he’d offered to tutor Draco privately twice a week, both to help him with his Occlumency and to uphold appearances for the sake of the other Deatheaters resident in the school. Draco was supposed to be his property, after all, and the Carrows knew that, and so did some of the students.  </p><p>He’d been a little nervous that Harry would be displeased when he first broached the subject, but Harry was not displeased. He was relieved. </p><p><em> [Good God I hope he said yes] </em> was the first thing he said. And Draco had, indeed, accepted, which Severus told him. <em> [Good. Do you have to hit him still? Or is just coming to your rooms at night enough?] </em></p><p>“My hope is that coming to my rooms is enough,” Severus answered. “Though before he goes to the Manor I will have to hit him, yes.” </p><p>There was a pause, before <em> [I’m sorry you have to do that] </em> appeared, and, in reading it, Severus was filled with such a swell of awe at Harry’s grace that he felt rather sick. <em> [Will you tell me next time he comes? I’d like to know how he is] </em></p><p>How unbelievably compassionate. No jealousy, no anger, no snide comments, no pettiness, no fishing for promises of propriety, no nothing. Just concern for the boy, and for Severus in having to harm him. Just… compassion.</p><p>“You are an incredible person,” Severus said, and in the back of his mind he felt a little whisper of fear. Harry <em> was </em> incredible. Kind. Selfless. A saint. But Severus didn’t want him to be those things. At least… not now. Severus wanted him to be selfish, and ruthless, and callous. He didn’t want a martyr. He wanted someone who would value his own life over the lives of others. A self-centered, uncompromising, vengeful survivor.</p><p>But he didn’t have one of those, did he? </p><p>He had Harry Potter.</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head to clear it.</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Saint Harry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>So, Severus got in the habit of alerting Harry to the duration of Draco’s lessons with a simple, “Draco,” at the start, and, “all done,” at the end. And when he was finished, Harry would ask how Draco’s Occlumecy was progressing, and how he seemed, and whether or not Severus thought he’d be able to survive. Severus told him the truth, such as it was: Draco’s Occlumency was improving, but he did not seem very well, and Severus did not know if he would live or not. </p><p><em> [I hope he does] </em> Harry answered. <em> [I saw what happened to him after he helped me escape. Try to save him, alright?] </em></p><p>“I will.”</p><p>
  <em> [He deserves to be free] </em>
</p><p>“So do you.”</p><p> </p><p>That conversation hacked a canyon in Severus’ barriers a mile wide, exposing a roiling river of such adoration and reverence and fear for his young lover that he’d been sure it would take hours to repair. But there was one small stroke of luck there. It did not take hours. It only took about fifteen minutes. All his repairs were coming a little easier, now. Even after suggesting and following through with two more very satisfying forays into, as Harry called it, <em> ‘ghost hands,’ </em> it only took about an hour to hide everything again. During their time apart such reconstructions would have taken all night. But now, it was almost as if his love for Harry had been tamed, somehow. Like it had given up trying to explode out of him at every turn now that he knew, without a doubt, that it was reciprocated. </p><p>He told Harry that, too, and Harry rather predictably called him a <em> hopeless romantic, </em>and Severus retorted that if he really wanted to hear something romantic, his potted cactus was still on his desk, and it was alive, and plump, and sprouting pups. And Harry, in turn, teased him about his gardening prowess, or lack thereof.</p><p><em> [Good thing I gave you something so hard to kill] </em> he said.</p><p>“Just like we are, my beloved,” Severus answered. </p><p>
  <em> [Ha. Well. I’m pretty easy to almost kill, aren’t I? It’s just that last bit that trips up all my nemeses]  </em>
</p><p>Unpleasant goosebumps frizzed over Severus’ arms. What a brutally concise summary of every wish he’d whispered into the dark for the past year and a half. <em> Almost </em> kill. Good Lord. <em> [Speaking of plant life] </em> Harry continued, blissfully unaware of Severus’ sudden shift in mood. <em> [Can I tell you something?] </em></p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>
  <em> [It’s about my field] </em>
</p><p>“Oh,” Severus said. He’d been half-heartedly going through some new detention requests during their banter, but he put them aside right then. “I was afraid you’d never say.” </p><p>
  <em> [I didn’t want to, before] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The story came out in fits and starts, but Severus did not interject or ask any questions. He just read what Harry sent him, and when there was a pause, he waited. And so, Harry told him about the destruction that had occurred inside him the moment Severus left - his precious safe haven instantly flattened into a blasted wasteland with nothing but poison for a sky. He told him how finding the yarrow had brought out the sun, and about the desert, and the cracks of sandy soil, and the cactus roses and thorns and sage, and then, finally, about the great flood of rain that swept everything away after their single night together. Harry told him that the life inside his magic was uncontrollably verdant, now. A rainforest. A mad jungle. Kind of scary, or so he said, but lush, and green, and beautiful, and endless. </p><p>“And what do you do there, if it’s already so complete?” Severus asked when Harry was finished.  </p><p><em> [Oh, mostly I explore] </em> Harry answered. <em> [There’s stuff in there I’ve never even heard of before. Plants and animals I haven’t seen in a book or in a picture or anywhere. I don’t know where they came from] </em></p><p>Well, that sounded just like Harry, didn’t it? So full of life that he scared even himself. Severus left his papers scattered on the table and moved over to the sofa.</p><p>“And it appeared like that all at once?” he asked.</p><p>
  <em> [Yeah. Just like the wasteland. I woke up and it was like that. Really shocked me both times] </em>
</p><p>Severus hadn’t known any of that, and his first reaction was, as usual, remorse. How terrified Harry must have been the first time he retreated into his magic and found it dead and ruined. Had he still been at school? After Albus’ funeral, maybe. What an awful thought. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he said.</p><p>
  <em> [It’s ok. It’s fine now. Better than ever, really] </em>
</p><p>Severus tapped his fingers. He’d never heard of anyone with an internal world so labile, and complex, and so very alive. The method of meditation he’d taught Harry was uncommon, true, but there were accounts, and according to the literature, if a Witch or Wizard wanted to create something as intricate as what Harry was describing, they would have to build it bit by bit. Each stream, each stone, each plant, each animal, the way Harry had developed and populated his landscape the first time. But Harry hadn’t done that this time. Harry had woken up the morning after their separation to a crater, and the morning after their rapprochement to a paradise.</p><p>Absolutely unheard of. </p><p>“You know, Harry,” he said slowly. “That is quite… extraordinary.”</p><p>
  <em> [Is it? That sort of thing never happened to yours?] </em>
</p><p>No, it certainly had not. </p><p>Funny to think of his little mantra, now: <em> Love him, teach him, strengthen him, save him? </em> Perhaps Harry should teach <em> him </em> some things. It was interesting how involuntary the changes seemed, though, wasn’t it? Almost like it was linked directly to Severus himself. To his magic, or his energy, or his love, or something like that. </p><p> </p><p>He went very still.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“What’s up?” Ron asked, plopping down beside Harry in the garden.</p><p>“Oh, nothing,” Harry answered. “Just telling Severus about my magic.”</p><p>“Tell him there was a bird on your head last time you were meditating.”</p><p>Harry laughed. “What? What kind of bird?” he asked.</p><p>“Dunno mate. It was HUGE. All see-through, too.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Love. </p><p> </p><p>Harry had said something about that, hadn’t he? The night he came to Severus high on Felix Felicis. Severus had forgotten it, but he remembered now. Harry had returned from Albus’ office, gotten sloshed on Champagne, climbed into his lap, and said… </p><p><em> ‘ </em> <em> Dumbledore told me that my greatest power is love, and I think he’s right.’ </em></p><p>At the time, Severus had thought it was just one of Albus’ nonsensical platitudes. But suddenly it did not seem like a platitude. After what Harry had just told him, it seemed… literal. Like loving him and strengthening him were the very same thing.</p><p>A year ago Severus would have scoffed at that idea. But all at once it seemed obvious. Power the Dark Lord knows not? One night together had restored Harry’s magic to a state of incredible vibrancy. One night of Severus’ physical presence, and voice, and love, and hands, and everything else. <em> One night.  </em></p><p>His bracelet warmed and he looked down at it.</p><p>
  <em> [Severus? You ok?] </em>
</p><p>What might have happened if they’d never been torn apart? What incredible power might Harry be wielding if they had been able to stay together? If, perhaps, Severus really had married him on his seventeenth birthday, and stayed by his side, and fought with him. </p><p>Well, he could make up for lost time now, couldn’t he? He could just… pour love into him through the bracelets. As much as he could. Stuff him to bursting with it. </p><p>It certainly wouldn’t hurt anything.</p><p> </p><p>“My apologies,” he began, tingling with sudden energy. <em> Start right now. </em> “I was lost in thought imagining your frolickings in your new jungle paradise.”</p><p><em> [Oh? Am I frolicking naked?] </em> appeared.</p><p>“Swimming in a stream banked by lush ferns.”</p><p>
  <em> [I’m really on your mind, huh?] </em>
</p><p>“Every moment, waking or sleeping,” Severus said. <em> More. More. </em> “Maybe that’s why your magic has changed this way. It’s responding to my love for you. As deep and vibrant as the wildest jungle.”</p><p><em> [And dangerous?] </em> appeared in response. <em> [I saw a tiger one time. Scared the hell out of me] </em></p><p>Severus laughed, imagining a two-hundred kilogram predator appearing at Harry’s feet in his safehouse. Ronald Weasley would probably wet his pants. “Dangerous for your enemies, I’m sure,” he said. “Nothing that came from me could ever endanger you.”</p><p>
  <em> [You really are a romantic, aren’t you?] </em>
</p><p>“Only for you, my precious fugitive,” Severus answered. “It can be quite embarrassing. I’m rather afraid you’ll ruin my reputation.”</p><p>There was a pause.</p><p><em> [Severus] </em> Harry sent. <em> [You actually are saying things like that a lot more often, you know] </em></p><p>Severus read that and his smile fell right off his face. He’d only just decided to embark on a mission of sweet nothings <em>moments ago,</em> and Harry was already suspicious? What an incredibly swift intuitive leap. </p><p>Or… had Severus perhaps been hemorrhaging tender musings this whole time?</p><p>He might have been. </p><p>He blushed. </p><p>“Am I irritating you?” he asked, and spun his cuff once around his wrist before stilling it to continue. “I did warn you that I’d love you until you were annoyed, if you recall.”</p><p><em> [No, it’s not that. I like it. It’s just sort of… noticeable] </em> A pause. <em> [Is something wrong?] </em></p><p>Harry’s intuition was like a scalpel. </p><p>“Perhaps I’m trying to make up for the six months I spent screaming my romantic turns of phrase into the void,” Severus said slowly, thinking about Harry’s knack for exposing secrets without even knowing he was doing it - flaying him open, and extracting the truth with innocent questions and wide-eyed sincerity. With, <em> ‘why would Voldemort send someone as incompetent as Malfoy?’ </em> With, <em> ‘are we in a hurry?’ </em> With, <em> ‘you’ve been trying to prepare me.’ </em>And now, with this. </p><p><em> [Sure. Maybe] </em> Harry answered. For a moment there was nothing else, and Severus braced for an interrogation. But he didn’t need to. <em> [You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. If it’s… you know. Secret]  </em></p><p>Severus’ heart squeezed in his chest. Harry didn’t want him to lie, so he was prepared to take nothing. What awful trust. </p><p>He pressed his knuckles against his lips and then took them away. </p><p>“Harry,” he said. “I promised I wouldn’t lie to you anymore. Do you remember?”</p><p><em> [Yes, I remember] </em> appeared. <em> [Did you mean it?] </em></p><p>“I meant it.” He took a deep breath. “So, if you must know, I have become quite concerned that one or both of us will not survive the war, and I appear to be expressing my anxiety verbally, as I cannot touch you.” </p><p>It wasn’t a lie. Severus <em> was </em> concerned that one or both of them would die. It wasn’t necessary to tell Harry that he did not intend to survive alone. It would be callous to say it, really. It would upset him.</p><p><em> [Does being mushy make you feel better?] </em>Harry asked.</p><p>“Yes.” <em> Particularly as you seem to respond to my adoration like it’s a source of fuel. </em> “Do you mind it?”</p><p>
  <em> [No, I don’t mind. You can keep on, if you want. I liked that one about being an amputated limb] </em>
</p><p>Severus relaxed minutely. Harry seemed satisfied, at least for the moment, and that was as good a reprieve as he was likely to get. And if Severus had already been gushing love like blood from a severed artery, he would not try to stem the flow now. He would <em> double it. </em> Let him be a waterfall of sentiment while there was still someone there to receive it. </p><p>After all, it was real.</p><p>“Then I shall proceed,” he said. “Any requests? Might I, for example, wax poetic about the flecks of gold in your eyes, or the way your hair shines in the sun?”</p><p>
  <em> [How soppy] </em>
</p><p>“I have many varieties of sop to offer,” Severus drawled back. “What sort of imagery do you like? Nature, religious, cosmic, or violent?”</p><p>
  <em> [What sort of question is that? Violent, obviously] </em>
</p><p>Severus thought for a moment. “During that meeting with McGonagall last term, I thought I’d cut out my own eye to be able to hold your hand. How’s that for violently soppy?”</p><p><em> [Wow] </em> Harry answered. <em> [That was somehow soppier and more violent than I was expecting] </em></p><p>“I do try.”</p><p> </p><p>Love him. Yes. </p><p>Just love him, and… pray.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Cut out his eye? Mate.”</p><p>“That was after you shouted at me. I had a panic attack.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Didn’t figure he was… y’know. In love with you.”</p><p>“Well, he is.”</p><p>“I know that <em> now.” </em>Ron stood up. “C’mon. Hermione wants you to look at her new schematics. Something about alternative routes out of the vault.”</p><p><em> “More </em> alternative routes?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>When Harry asked about Hogwarts, Severus told him about that, too. He told Harry about the Carrows running rampant, and the awful things Severus had to allow, and about the students holed up in the Room of Requirement. Severus had been worried about them for a while, and when more and more Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs started disappearing in there and never coming out, he asked Albus where they might be getting food. And, for once, he got a relatively satisfying answer.</p><p>“The Room of Requirement?” Albus’ portrait asked. “That must be why Aberforth is so annoyed. He’s been badgering me for payment for weeks.”</p><p>“Aberforth? Your brother?”</p><p>“Oh, yes. He owns the Hog’s Head. His cuisine isn’t of the highest quality, as I’m sure you know, but it is, technically, food.”</p><p>“Well.”</p><p> </p><p>So, he told Harry that his friends were alive, if not terribly safe, and that they were driving the Carrows mad. Harry liked that rather a lot, and Severus liked that he liked it, and the Carrows were, indeed, being driven batty with frustration. They did not know about the Room of Requirement, and Severus certainly was not going to tell them, and neither was Draco. Draco did not speak to anyone, in fact, though his Occlumency was improving rapidly. He seemed to be ignoring all of his coursework in favor of it, which gave Severus the impression that he’d finally gotten his priorities straight. </p><p>Exams and class standings didn't matter if you were dead. </p><p> </p><p>“Sir?” Draco asked. “I think I’m ready.”</p><p>It was Saturday evening around nine, and Draco Malfoy had been sitting in silence on Severus’ hearth rug for an hour, preparing his barriers for assault. At first, Severus had thought that having Draco sit in Harry’s spot might bother him, but it didn’t. After what Harry said about his hopes for Draco’s future, it did not bother him at all. And, of course, it felt good to do something for Harry, particularly when he was so far away. So, he helped Draco like he had before, but now it was with Harry’s knowledge, consent, and approval, as had always been his hope. </p><p>“Very well. Come sit up on the sofa.”</p><p> </p><p>That was their routine, now. Every Wednesday and Saturday night, Severus would give Draco some time to prepare himself as best he could, and then try to gouge holes in his mind and pry out the truth. </p><p>It took awhile for Draco to develop the mental fortitude to withhold anything at all. The first time Severus ever really tried to break through his defenses, an absolute flood of terrifyingly incriminating thoughts and emotions gushed out, and Severus was so surprised that he burst out laughing. Draco hadn’t liked that at all, but he couldn’t help it. There was just so<em> much.  </em></p><p>“My God, boy,” Severus said once he’d controlled his laughter. “What a death sentence. How long have you been thinking these things?”</p><p>“Oh, pretty much since the Dark Lord sold me as a <em> slave, </em>I suppose,” Draco sneered back. “And it’s not really that funny.”</p><p>“You weren’t <em> sold,” </em>Severus answered snidely, and Draco crossed his arms. </p><p>“Given, then. Free to the most <em> sadistic.” </em></p><p>“Well, my sadism aside, Draco, if you don’t work hard enough you are headed straight to the grave.”</p><p>“Don’t you think I know that?” Draco burst out. “Why the fuck do you think I’m here?” He turned red. “… Sir.”</p><p> </p><p>So, they tried again, and again, and again, and again, until Draco could take quite a lot of mental abuse, and had reached proficiency in redirecting attention to his false beliefs. At that point, they turned their efforts towards fleshing out and adding depth to those false beliefs, and then, finally, towards complete fabrication. Creating memories from scratch was the most advanced form of Occlumency, and Severus guided him very slowly through the steps of conceptualizing, crafting, and animating a few images of a more explicit nature. </p><p>Draco did not find it easy, and the memories he finally managed to produce were not clear, cohesive, or chronological, but that was for the best. They did not need to be narrative. The more fragmented the better, really, and he instructed Draco to intersperse the images with solid blocks of color - black, and red, and bright white, with a blurry fizz of nothing at the edges - to break them up further.</p><p>“But… doesn’t it have to make more sense than this?” Draco asked after Severus inspected and revised the fabrications to his liking.</p><p>“No,” Severus answered. “Believe me, Draco, if I really was the sort of man the Dark Lord thinks I am, your memories would look just like this. Isolated images, flashes of movement, blank spots, color.”</p><p>“But… why?” Draco asked.</p><p>“Trauma.”</p><p>“Oh.” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Once Draco’s fakes were up to par, and he was holding up well under pressure, Severus decided it was time to really challenge him. Occlumency designed to withstand general attacks would not be enough to hold back a well-informed adversary, which the Dark Lord certainly was, and what Draco needed to understand was what a Wizard could do when he already knew what you were hiding. So, late one Wednesday evening, Severus bade Draco brace for something new, pointed his wand between his eyes, and tore the memory of releasing Harry from the cellar right out of his head.</p><p>It wasn’t difficult, and Severus watched with interest as Harry and Ron seized Draco and relieved him of his wand, and as they reacted to Draco’s docility with bafflement. He felt Draco’s fear that they weren’t going to understand, and his relief as Harry finally let him call out to Lucius. He listened as Harry asked about Draco’s face, and heard Draco’s sneering response: <em> Severus? I fucking knew it. </em></p><p>And then darkness. </p><p> </p><p>He withdrew, and Draco fainted, and when he woke up he got violently sick, so Severus sent him into the bathroom. Draco stayed in there for a while, and when he returned shivering and drenched in sweat, Severus had a hot cup of tea ready for him. He himself hadn’t reacted that strongly in quite some time, but he knew exactly how it felt. Such forceful entry into a hidden memory was an awful violation - painful and revolting - and a true desecration of the mind. He regretted it, of course, but the first time was always the worst, and it was important that Draco’s first time not be under the eyes of the Dark Lord.</p><p> </p><p>“Merlin,” Draco moaned, hanging his head between his knees. “I thought - I - was getting better.”</p><p>“You are,” Severus answered, watching his blonde hair swing into his face, stringy with cold sweat. It reminded him rather vividly of the way Harry had reacted to casting <em> Sectumsempra </em> on this particular Slytherin troublemaker, and he wondered, as he often did, what Harry was doing at that moment. Probably up to his ears in criminal mischief, as was his wont. Hopefully he’d be awake when Draco left, so Severus could ask him about disabling Draco at the Manor, and cram some more love into him before he went to sleep. “What you are accomplishing now is quite advanced. Very few Wizards in the world could tolerate what I just did to you.” </p><p>“Not me, though.”</p><p>“No. Not yet, at least. You must keep practicing.”</p><p>“I am practicing,” Draco groaned, and then lifted his head to look at him. “Professor Snape… That… did not feel good.”</p><p>“No. It never does.”</p><p>“Is that what the Dark Lord did to you? After I…” he blanched and put his head back down, directing his words towards his feet. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know it felt like that.”</p><p>“I’m sure you are sorry, just now,” Severus allowed. “But no, the Dark Lord did something marginally different than that to me.” He stood up. “Patch up that hole I made before you go. And drink some water.”</p><p> </p><p>It took Draco until midnight to feel secure in his repairs, and when he was finally gone, Severus touched his wand to his bracelet and said, “all done.” Harry was not asleep.</p><p><em> [You ran late] </em> appeared. <em> [How is he?] </em></p><p>“Oh, not so well,” Severus answered with a sigh. “I broke into his memories of your escape from Malfoy Manor and he got quite ill. What exactly did you do to incapacitate him? His memory jumped straight from you asking about his face, to him waking up on the floor.”</p><p>
  <em> [I knocked him out and tied him up. He asked me to] </em>
</p><p>“How, though?”</p><p>
  <em> [Just touched his head and decided he should be asleep] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Severus read that twice and raised his eyebrows.</p><p><em> Decided </em> he should be asleep? Quite a leap in magical confidence, deciding someone should be asleep. Rather like <em> deciding </em> that Severus should have an orgasm, or <em> deciding </em> that flowers should explode out of the ground. What might dear Albus, keeper of the keys of life and death think about that? Severus remembered with a burst of anger how dismissive Albus had been of Harry’s little circle of spring. But this? Harry’s intuitive grasp of his powers seemed to be increasing exponentially. His will, his desire, his intention, violating all magical laws. </p><p>“You might end up imprisoned in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures if you keep that sort of thing up,” Severus said lightly. Now that he’d asked about Draco, It was time for his new pet project. An outrageous, smothering blanket of romantic nonsense. “Or spawn a new religion.”</p><p><em> [Saint Harry] </em>Harry answered, very kindly playing along.</p><p>“Just reading that fills me with the desire to wash your hair,” Severus answered. </p><p>
  <em> [My feet, you mean. You can be my first acolyte] </em>
</p><p>Severus laughed. It was much too late for that. He’d been worshiping at the altar of Harry Potter for ages already. He’d be a high priest if he’d be anything at all. Vicar Snape, keeper of the almighty Potter, holding back the masses.</p><p>Oh, that was a good one. He should say it.</p><p>“Please, Potter. Don’t insult me,” he began. “My devotion to you is hardly that of a lowly acolyte. I’d be a Cardinal, if not the Pope.”</p><p>
  <em> [Ooh, soppy religious imagery]  </em>
</p><p>“You see right through me.” </p><p>
  <em> [Give me something cosmic] </em>
</p><p>“Hm.” Severus considered. It was quite a lark, this new game Harry was allowing him to play. A bit of a challenge, like trying to produce poetry on demand. An excellent distraction from Draco’s tribulations, and the fact that Harry was completely out of reach. “How about this? The light you have shone on my life is brighter even than the nearest star.”</p><p>
  <em> [Isn’t that the sun?] </em>
</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>
  <em> [That’s pretty bright] </em>
</p><p>“It certainly is. Quite blinding, as I have said before.”</p><p>
  <em> [My blinding, cosmic, religious beauty?] </em>
</p><p>Reading that, he wondered if Harry was blushing, and if he was, how far down the color went. An image escaped out of his pit of hidden memories: Harry, pulling his shirt off over his head. That flush, down his chest. Sweet Lord. </p><p>“I believe the term I used was ‘radiance,’” he said. He could already tell he’d have to rebuild everything after this conversation, but right then it felt worth it. </p><p><em> [Much neater] </em> appeared<em>. [What haven’t I had, yet?] </em></p><p>“I can think of a number of things you haven’t had recently,” Severus said, and another few fragments of memory leaked out. Hands, mouths… <em>incarcerous. </em>The feathered end of a cane. He crossed his legs.</p><p>
  <em> [You’re telling me. But you said my options were nature, cosmic, religious, or violent, didn’t you? I think I’ve had all four, now. If you count the jungle comment] </em>
</p><p>“Oh,” Severus said. “Yes. I suppose I’ve given you all of those. Shall we circle around, or would you like new categories?” </p><p>
  <em> [Aren’t I messing with your barriers?] </em>
</p><p>“Yes, you’re quite crumbling them to bits. But as I said, they are being rather more cooperative these days. I’ll repair them later.” </p><p>
  <em> [Alright… how about… food-based?] </em>
</p><p>That surprised him. “Ha! Food-based sop?”</p><p><em> [Aw, you laughed through the bracelet] </em> Harry answered. <em> [You’ve never done that before] </em></p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>The last shreds of Severus’ mental wards vaporized instantly as what felt like a firework of affection went off in his chest. The sensation was so strong he almost put his hand over the spot like he could hold it in. No wonder this new strategy of his came so easily. Harry was so fucking lovable he could barely control his reaction to it. Astounding that he’d ever been able to produce so much as apathy around that boy, let alone scorn. “You are… very sweet,” he said. </p><p>
  <em> [You just think that because you can’t get your hands on me. If you were here right now you’d be saying all kinds of different things] </em>
</p><p>That was probably true. “Well, I’m trying to keep it romantic, aren’t I?” he said. “Sexual innuendo is not usually considered <em> soppy.” </em></p><p>
  <em> [Wouldn’t want to be inappropriate with a former student. C’mon. You’re stalling. Food-based] </em>
</p><p>“Oh. Yes. Let’s see.” Severus looked into the middle distance, and then looked back down as another message appeared. </p><p>
  <em> [If you say something about my bum looking like a peach I will take this bracelet off] </em>
</p><p>He burst out laughing and covered his mouth. “Lord in heaven, Potter. I was NOT.” It did, though. </p><p>
  <em> [Well, what? I haven’t got all night] </em>
</p><p>“Fine. Rush me then. The… the taste of your skin is sweeter than the richest cream. Your voice, more intoxicating than the finest wine. The touch of your hand, more precious than the rarest silk.”</p><p>
  <em> [Oh ho, you veered off of food, there] </em>
</p><p>“Blast!” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Draco received his first true test when the Dark Lord summoned the two of them straight from school one clear evening near the end of April. Severus had sent Harry the usual, “no messages,” before leaving his rooms, and he’d anticipated a solitary meeting right up until he saw Draco out in the grounds. </p><p>“Oh, thank Merlin,” Draco gasped when Severus caught up to him. “I thought it was just me. Quick! Hit me.” He closed his eyes and set his feet apart the way he did when he was determined not to get knocked down. Severus scoffed. </p><p>“I think the Dark Lord might overlook a single incidence of you not looking like a battered wife,” he said. “How are your seals?”</p><p>“Uh. Fine?” Draco answered, and his eyes went wide. “Do you think he’ll-”</p><p>“No way to tell,” Severus answered, taking hold of his arm. “Just stay behind me and look downtrodden.”</p><p>“Yes, Sir,” Draco answered, and Severus turned them on the spot and into the ether.</p><p> </p><p>They appeared on the lawn of Malfoy Manor with a scattering of others. Most were in robes, if not more casual attire, but no masks. It seemed everyone had been going about their regular business and were not prepared to be called. That was good, Severus supposed. It put them all on equal footing.</p><p>“Evening Severus,” Macnair said, inclining his head. He did not address Draco.</p><p>“Good evening,” Severus answered him, and gave Rookwood and Yaxley each a small nod. Rowle, he did not grace with so much as a glance. He just jerked his head in the direction of the main house, indicating that Draco should follow, and set off. </p><p>Severus could see Draco turning on his submissive persona out of the corner of his eye as he walked, and either Draco had been practicing, or he was terrified, or both. For he looked exactly right - the archetype of a crushed spirit - and Wormtail seemed to think so, too, as he leered at Draco’s back when he thought Severus wasn’t looking. But Severus was looking. </p><p>“Keep your tongue in your mouth, Pettigrew,” he hissed as he swept past him in the foyer. “Or I’ll have it.” </p><p>Wormtail gave a little gasp and did not look at Draco again.</p><p> </p><p>The meeting, as it turned out, was not terribly long. The Dark Lord seemed simply in the mood for some sordid tales of muggle subjugation, and a general air of dedication and reverence, which the Deatheaters happily provided. So, when the Dark Lord dismissed the gathering, Severus was rather surprised to be called back. And he was rather more surprised to be called back with his <em> consort.  </em></p><p>“My Lord?” he asked, stuffing back his disappointment at losing a possible opportunity to quietly murder Rowle and hide the body. “Was there something else?”</p><p>“Sit, Severus,” the Dark Lord replied, gesturing to the chair beside him. It was just the same one Severus had occupied while laying bare his misdeeds with Harry, but he controlled his emotional reaction to that, and simply sat. Draco, to his credit, sank to the floor at his side and looked at his hands. Voldemort’s red eyes traveled from Draco’s bowed head, to Severus’ feet, and up his body to his face. “Tell me, Severus,” he hissed. “Do you miss young Mister Potter?”</p><p>Was there anything quite as loathsome as hearing Harry’s name on the Dark Lord’s lips? Maybe hearing the preceding descriptor <em> young. </em>Revolting.</p><p>“Miss him, my Lord?” Severus asked. “Whatever can you mean?”</p><p>“Just what I’ve said. Do you miss him?”</p><p>Severus rested his hands on the armrests, letting his fingers dangle casually off the ends. “No more than one might miss a particularly delicate bit of pastry once it’s been consumed.”</p><p>The Dark Lord inclined his head, and turned his attention to Draco. “And how is your master treating you, Draco?” he asked. “Was he kind to you after your display of incompetence here at the Manor? Letting his plaything escape?”</p><p>Severus’ fingers twitched, but he managed to keep himself from stiffening further. </p><p>This was not good. He should have hit Draco before leaving the grounds. Should have hit him the day before and presented him black and blue, or brought him bleeding, and weeping, and limping. </p><p>Draco was not ready for this.  </p><p>“N-no, my Lord,” Draco said quietly.</p><p>“Speak up!” Voldemort hissed. “Is he tender with you? Do you sleep in his <em> bed?” </em> He looked back at Severus with a malicious twinkle in his eye. “My sources at Hogwarts have intimated to me that our dear Draco has been looking rather well rested.”</p><p>Severus mirrored the Dark Lord’s own expression back to him without much trouble. Vicious. Predatory. A kindred spirit. Just two horrific fiends having a chat about rape and abuse. Simple. </p><p>“I am a discreet man by nature, my Lord,” he began. “And, as such, I have been exerting no small effort in keeping up appearances for my colleagues. I suppose I got rather in the habit during the months I spent sitting at the high table with Potter’s blood under my fingernails.” Draco gasped and curled in on himself. That was promising. “I have quite depleted my store of healing potions keeping him fit to attend classes, in fact.”</p><p>“Have you?” The Dark Lord asked. “You've been making use of him, then?”</p><p>Severus let his lip curl up at the corner. “Almost nightly.” </p><p>Voldemort sat back in his chair, his red eyes flashing. “Kiss him then.” </p><p>“Kiss him?” Severus asked, startled despite himself.</p><p>“Yes, Severus. Kiss him. If you’re <em> fucking </em>him, it shouldn’t be too much trouble.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Mad Plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“As my Lord commands,” Severus said, seized Draco’s hair, and forced his head back. It was not gentle, nor was it really a kiss. It was violence, plain and simple, which was exactly what the Dark Lord wanted to see. So, Severus served up violence for his master’s viewing pleasure, fighting hard not to plead forgiveness with every fiber of his body and soul as he tightened his fingers in Draco’s hair until he yelped in pain, and thrust his tongue into his mouth. It took a few seconds for Draco to submit, but when he did, Severus cast him away, sprawling him out at their feet. </p><p>He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.</p><p>“I am not accustomed to <em> kissing </em> my submissives, my Lord,” he spat, and when Draco tried to prop himself up, spilled him back down with one foot. “I find the taste of weakness quite loathsome.”</p><p>“Mm,” the Dark Lord said, tapping one finger against his lips. “He is loathsome, isn’t he? Pathetic. Worthless. Just like his father.”</p><p>“Quite,” Severus answered. “Though I am finding him rather more useful than Lucius has ever been.” He pressed a little harder with his boot, pinning Draco to the ground, praying that he could hold it together for just a little longer.</p><p>“I’m sure you are,” the Dark Lord said, and turned his gaze back on the boy. “And what have you learned to do for your master, Draco?” he asked. “How do you comfort him from the great loss of his preferred plaything? You must know he did not even want you, at first. How humiliating.” </p><p>Severus lifted his foot, keeping his eyes on the Dark Lord. Either Draco would know what to do, or he wouldn’t, and Merlin, Severus had never meant to put his life in the hands of someone so young. And certainly not in the hands of Draco Malfoy, paralyzed with terror, on his back. </p><p>He focused on his heart rate, and his breath, and waited. </p><p>For a moment, Draco did not move. But then, very slowly, as if he was afraid of being pinned back down, he propped himself up and shifted to kneel between Severus’ legs. Severus, for his part, separated his feet a little to allow it and relaxed back into his chair like this was all perfectly natural. Like it was quite a treat having Draco Malfoy on his knees that way, with the Dark Lord looking on.</p><p>“How charming,” Voldemort hissed, and Severus thanked God and Merlin and whoever else was listening that he was wearing his formal robes and so his complete lack of arousal was not visible. What an insult it would be to die just because this display of violent perversion didn’t get him <em> hard.  </em></p><p>Draco’s trembling hands slid up his thighs, and Severus met his gaze, saw nothing but trust, and kicked him back down to the floor.</p><p>“I am not an exhibitionist, my Lord,” he said. “Do forgive my shortcomings.”</p><p>Voldemort just laughed in his awful, stangled way. “Very well,” he said, and beckoned to Draco. “Come here then, boy.” </p><p>Draco obeyed the command, keeping his eyes downcast as he crawled over to the Dark Lord’s feet. That wouldn’t be good enough, of course, but Draco knew that, and he did not resist as Voldemort tipped his chin up and looked into his eyes. Severus just watched, tingling with suppressed violence as Draco’s lip trembled and sweat broke out on his brow, wondering if this was the last night of their lives. It might be. </p><p>He stayed very still until the Dark Lord let Draco go with a sneer of satisfaction. </p><p>“Go back to your master, <em> whelp,” </em>he hissed, and Draco, shaking, retreated to Severus’ feet like a kicked dog. “Keep in mind, Severus,” the Dark Lord continued. “If you are not using him properly I will take him away. There are others who want him. I have received… requests. Rowle in particular is quite persistent, and he has served me very well.”</p><p>“I’m certain you have, my Lord,” Severus answered. “But I assure you, I am enjoying him quite thoroughly. And I am far more creative in my discipline than someone like Rowle could ever hope to be.” <em> Cry, </em> he thought desperately. <em> Cry, Draco. Cry. Hide your face. Help me. Help me make it seem real. </em> “Though I suppose I have been holding back, somewhat. I could damage him more permanently, if it would please you.” He drew the pad of one finger down Draco’s cheek in a parody of tender romance. <em> Cry, Draco. Scream. Do ANYTHING</em>. “I could mutilate him, if you like. You know I have no particular qualms in that direction.” Finally, <em> finally, </em> Draco flinched back towards the legs of his chair with a gasp of fear and covered his face.</p><p>“Master, no,” he whimpered. “Please. No - no more. Please, master, <em> please - please-”  </em></p><p>“I do so enjoy it when he begs,” Severus purred, and met the Dark Lord’s gaze with as much challenge as he dared. “Have I disappointed you, my Lord?” he asked. “Or might I keep my small comfort?” </p><p>Voldemort narrowed his eyes. “Keep him, then,” he said. “But remember, Severus, that he belongs to me.”</p><p>“As do I, my Lord,” Severus answered. “As do I.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Draco barely made it back into school before bursting into tears, and Severus, dragging him by the arm, tossed him into his rooms with a flurry of silencing charms.</p><p>“Control that!” he demanded, but then stopped himself. What would Harry say, if he could see Draco, now? If he’d seen Severus handle him that way, and the Dark Lord lift his chin?</p><p>
  <em> Don’t shout. Don’t shout. He’s afraid, and so are you. </em>
</p><p>He slammed the door shut, dropped to his knees, and pulled Draco into his arms.</p><p>“It’s alright,” he said as Draco clutched at his cloak, burying his face. “It’s alright. You did just fine.” Draco’s body seized up like he was about to explode, and Severus squeezed him tighter, cupping the back of his neck with one hand. “Draco,” he said warningly. “Listen to me. That was right. You did it right.” </p><p>Draco let out a shriek of misery. </p><p>It was only barely muffled against Severus’ chest, but Severus did not try to make him stop. He just held him and let him scream until there was no breath left inside him to fuel it. And then, his horror spent, the tension drained from Draco’s body all at once and he went limp. </p><p>For a moment Severus stayed still, listening to his gasps for air, waiting to see if there was any more. But there wasn’t, so after a while, he hooked his hands under Draco’s arms and maneuvered him up off the floor. He did not seem able to walk quite yet, so Severus half-carried him to the sofa and sat him on it, and when Draco’s fingers did not disengage from his clothes, gently prized them off. </p><p>“I’m not leaving,” he said at Draco’s strangled squeak of protest. “I’m not leaving you. I’m just going to get you something to drink. Stay.” Draco’s hands fell into his lap, and when Severus let him go, he collapsed forward and put his head between his knees.</p><p>Severus went to his liquor cabinet and withdrew a bottle of brandy, and as he was pouring, he deliberately clattered it against the glass, and touched his wand to his wrist. </p><p>“Draco,” he said under his breath. “Upset. Wait.”</p><p>
  <em> [Hurt?]  </em>
</p><p>“No.”</p><p><em> [Ok] </em>appeared, and he turned back towards the couch to see that Draco had not moved at all, though now his whole body was wracked with violent tremors. It reminded Severus of his marking ceremony, and he sighed and sat beside him.</p><p>“It’s alright,” he said again, his voice coaxing. “Sit up, Draco. Drink this.” </p><p>“I can’t - do this,” Draco gasped towards the floor, hunching his shoulders in. “I can’t - stand it - I’ll g-get you k-killed - I - I - should just… e-e-end it. Just - just- e-end it.”</p><p>“No,” Severus said, laying one palm on his shaking back. <em> Don’t lose your temper. He’s seventeen </em>. “You’re upset, and frightened. It’ll pass. Sit up.”</p><p>“Just - k-kill me. Just k-kill m-me before he g-gets in m-my head - If I’m d-d-dead- you w-w-won’t-”</p><p>Well, perhaps a little force was warranted in this case. Sometimes the Harry Potter method of patient compassion didn’t work. It usually didn’t even work on Harry himself, now that he thought about it. He put the brandy on the side table to free his hands. </p><p>“No,” he said again, a little more forcefully, lifting Draco’s head to glare into his eyes. “You listen to me. You have already proven that you are strong enough to survive. You are sitting here in my quarters after being dissected by the Dark Lord himself, and that is proof of the only kind that matters.”</p><p>“I can't, I CAN’T,” Draco choked out, tearing away from Severus’ hands and putting his head back down. <em> “I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I-” </em></p><p>Severus grabbed a fistful of his hair and dragged his head back up. “Be quiet!” he barked, and Draco gasped and snapped his mouth shut. “Better. Now, listen and answer truthfully, Draco. Do you hate our master?” Draco, his eyes very wide, nodded against his grip and dug his fingernails into his own face. “Do you want to see Him fall?” He nodded harder, but then made a choking sound and seized his head like his skull was about to crack open. </p><p>“Oh <em> god,” </em> he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut. <em> “</em>Oh <em> god, oh god.” </em></p><p>“Leave it,” Severus hissed. “Fix it later. Look at me.” He grabbed Draco’s wrists and pulled his hands away. “Look at me, Draco. We all have to choose. We are at war and there’s no time for <em>nonsense. </em>If you want your freedom, you’re going to have to fight for it. And if you die, fine. But die a <em>soldier, </em>not a <em>suicide. </em>Are you listening?” Draco did not speak, so Severus clamped his hands down hard on his wrists, squeezing the bones together. “Answer me!”</p><p>“Yes - yes sir,” Draco squeaked, and Severus released him, and pressed the brandy into one of his hands, closing his shaking fingers around it. </p><p>“Drink this, and take a shower,” he said. “Scrub as hard as you need to.” He stood up, tugging Draco to his feet by the front of his robes. “Go on. Drink it.” Draco downed the brandy in one swallow. “Good. Clean yourself up.” He gave him a little push towards the bathroom, but then something occurred to him, and he caught his arm again. “Wait,” he said, and Draco stopped. “The straight razor you’ll find in my medicine cabinet is charmed not to break skin. Am I clear?” Draco nodded at the floor, and Severus held out his hand. “The glass.” Draco handed it over. “Go on.”</p><p> </p><p>Once the door was closed and Severus could hear the water running, he collapsed back onto the couch and put his head in his hands. Going into the viper’s nest was a lot more difficult with another person to keep alive, and he was exhausted. But, he had a report to give, didn’t he?</p><p>He rubbed his eyes, and turned his attention to his bracelet.</p><p>“Not a good night,” he said.</p><p>
  <em> [What happened?]  </em>
</p><p>“Quite a lot, unfortunately.” </p><p>Severus told him everything. Every vile, horrific detail, down to the slavering way Pettigrew looked at Draco’s submissive body language, and the so-called <em> kiss, </em> and the blonde hairs Severus had inadvertently ripped out of Draco’s head for the entertainment of the Dark Lord. And Draco's current disturbed state, of course. </p><p><em> [My God] </em> Harry said when he was finished. <em> [Severus, that’s awful. He won’t really hurt himself, will he?] </em></p><p>“Not if I can prevent it,” Severus answered, his stomach clenching with nausea as an image of Harry’s limp hand dangling over the edge of a cot flashed into his mind. It was a miracle either of them had made it even this long. Child conscripts, the both of them. What a cruel world. </p><p><em> [You should make him stay until morning] </em>appeared, and Severus blinked, and read it twice. </p><p>“What, in my rooms?” he asked, certain he’d misunderstood. But he hadn’t.</p><p>
  <em> [Yeah. On the sofa, or wherever. Just don’t send him back to the dorms tonight. There are Deatheater kids in school, right?] </em>
</p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>
  <em> [Don’t let him leave] </em>
</p><p>Severus stared at his bracelet. A cruel world, indeed, but not everyone inhabiting it was cruel, were they? There was at least one beautiful soul.</p><p>“I won’t,” he answered. “I won’t let him leave.”</p><p><em> [Good] </em> a pause. <em> [How about you? Are you ok?] </em></p><p>Severus got up and poured a brandy for himself. “I wouldn’t say I am particularly calm just now, no,” he said, taking the glass back to the sofa. </p><p>
  <em> [Want to talk about something else?] </em>
</p><p>Severus did not really want to talk. What he wanted was to curl up next to Harry in bed and listen to his heartbeat until he fell asleep. What he wanted was to touch Harry’s skin. To feel his breath, slow and deep against his shoulder. What he wanted was his other half, returned to him. Back in his rooms, and in his life, and in his arms. </p><p>He looked into his brandy, struck with the sudden urge to throw it against the wall. </p><p>“Tell me what you’re doing now, will you?” he said instead.</p><p><em> [Sure] </em> Harry sent back. <em> [Well, right now I’m on the floor in my sleeping bag, and Ron is snoring but it’s not that loud. And… I’m missing you… and wishing I could see you. And… we worked really hard today. Made a lot progress] </em></p><p>“With your secret scheming?”</p><p>
  <em> [Yeah. Not gonna be secret for much longer, though. We’re almost ready. You’re going to be so appalled] </em>
</p><p>Severus snorted, and took a sip. “Appalled and proud, I’m sure,” he said. “I await the news coverage with bated breath.” </p><p>
  <em> [Oh, wow. Yeah. It will probably be in the papers. I didn’t think of that] </em>
</p><p>“You’re in the papers every day already.”</p><p>
  <em> [Am I?] </em>
</p><p>“In the wanted posters, at the very least.”</p><p>
  <em> [Ha. How do I look? Dastardly?] </em>
</p><p>“The editors have tried their hand at making you seem intimidating, yes,” Severus answered. “But the expression they gave you is far too familiar to do anything but fill me with desire.” It probably filled everyone that saw it with desire, now that he thought of it. </p><p>
  <em> [Troublemaker Harry, huh? That’s your favorite kind of me] </em>
</p><p>“It certainly is.” </p><p>
  <em> [Well, let me tell you, I am about to make some trouble] </em>
</p><p>“I’ve no doubt,” Severus answered, but then the water turned off, and he looked up. “Oh, he’s finished.” </p><p>
  <em> [Tell me how he is in the morning, alright?] </em>
</p><p>“I shall,” Severus answered, taking one last drink. “Sleep well, my love.”</p><p>
  <em> [You too] </em>
</p><p>He stood, and pulled his sleeve down over the silver, but then his bracelet warmed one more time and he lifted it again. And froze. </p><p>
  <em> [You’re a good man, Severus] </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Like a knife in the heart. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Draco was somewhat calmer when he came out of the bathroom, and Severus handed him a nightshirt and pointed at the pile of blankets he’d laid out on the sofa.</p><p>“You’re not leaving.” </p><p>Draco did not argue. He just took the nightshirt from Severus’ hands and held it to his chest.</p><p>“I think it was Crabbe,” he said.</p><p>“Crabbe?” </p><p>“Yeah. I think he told the Dark Lord you’re being too kind to me. He’s been looking at me a little… differently these days. And he made a - a comment.”</p><p>“What sort of comment?”</p><p>Draco swallowed, and looked at the ceiling like he’d resolved not to cry anymore. “He asked me if it was my father who taught me how to - to - get on m-my knees.”</p><p>“I see,” Severus answered, and sighed. “What lovely manners that boy has. But it might easily have been the Carrows.” He thought about that. He’d obviously been remiss in assuming that he was not expected to be <em> visibly a rapist </em> while acting as the Headmaster of a secondary school. How silly of him to think anywhere safe with the Dark Lord’s regime ensconced in the Ministry. “I thought you would be safe here, but I was evidently incorrect. Perhaps it would behoove us to be a bit more obvious amongst our fellow Slytherins. You remember how to behave, I take it?” </p><p>Draco nodded at the floor.</p><p>“Used,” he whispered, his hands turning into fists where they clutched the nightshirt, and Severus was struck with sudden certainty that this pureblood prince wouldn’t have any trouble at all behaving like a slave after what had just happened to him. A confrontation like that with the Dark Lord could really strip a man down. Particularly if there was anyone at all offering protection.</p><p>Severus remembered the sort of <em>protection</em> Lucius had offered him after he took the mark, and wondered if Draco’s father would ever appreciate just how forgiving Severus really was. He could have cast this boy to the wolves. He might have, too. Before.</p><p>“Yes,” he answered. “Just so.”</p><p>There was a silence, and Draco shifted on his feet like he was trying to decide something. “Professor Snape?” he began. “I’m… I’m really - I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Why?” Severus asked. “I am still alive, and so are you. You did quite well, despite your… outburst.”</p><p>“Not that. I meant… for what happened tonight. The Dark Lord - He made you…” </p><p>“Assault you?” Severus interrupted. “Yes, he did. But why should you apologize for what I’ve done?” Severus himself should be the one apologizing. For hurting him, and ripping out his hair, and kicking him, and pinning him to the ground. And saying those awful things. </p><p>Where did he put his brandy?</p><p>“But aren’t you…? I mean…” Draco flushed with discomfort, and tried again. “Won’t your… your…” he trailed off, and in his hesitation, Severus suddenly understood what he was trying to ask. He was trying to ask about Harry. If <em>Harry</em> would be upset, or hurt, by what they’d just been through. Like it was an indiscretion, instead of a brush with death. Like his <em>lover</em> might feel <em>slighted. </em>And that… was truly sad.</p><p>“Oh, no,” Severus said. “Draco, no. Don’t trouble yourself about that. He knows everything. And I mean everything. He knows you’re here right now, and what I did to you, and what I’ve been doing with you. But he isn’t angry. He’s… concerned for you.” He hesitated. “He told me to make you stay.”</p><p>Finally, Draco looked up from his feet, and in his expression Severus could see the confusion of someone who had never loved, or been loved, without reservation. Draco Malfoy did not understand how Harry could possibly have said such a thing, or what it might mean that he had. But Severus did not begrudge him that. The emotion was familiar. It was just the way he himself had felt the night he told Harry what he’d done to Lily, and, braced for his hatred, had received nothing but the solidarity of a kindred broken heart.</p><p>“What?” Draco asked. “But… he - what?”</p><p>“To people like us, Draco, he speaks a foreign language,” Severus answered, and turned away. “Lay down, now. Repair your barriers as best you can before you sleep.” </p><p>“Yes, Sir.”</p><p> </p><p>Severus left him to his reconstructions and went into his bedroom. But then, just before he closed the door, he glanced back to see Draco standing very still, staring at the nightshirt in his hands like he was hoping it would speak. Just standing, and staring. And looking at him that way, Severus knew that Draco was turning right before his eyes. And not just away from the Dark Lord, as he had in fear and humiliation the night he’d come to Severus for protection, oh no. Draco wasn’t just turning <em> away, </em> he was turning <em> towards. </em> Towards the sudden possibility of forgiveness - of redemption - of everything Albus had tried to offer him that night in the tower. It hadn’t seemed real to him, then. But it was real to him, now. Because Draco had only just realized what it was that had saved him at his moment of greatest need. The light he’d seen, shining like a halo from behind Severus’ hard edges. Not from <em> within </em> Severus, but <em> behind him.  </em></p><p>That light.</p><p>Saint Harry, pardoning the damned from afar.</p><p> </p><p>He closed the door.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“And how is Harry doing?” Albus asked from his frame.</p><p>“Quite well,” Severus answered coolly. He was scratching away at a piece of parchment and did not look up. “He is under the care of a Fidelius charm, as I told you. Safe and sound.”</p><p>“And has he given you any idea of his plans?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>There was a silence. </p><p>“Severus.”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“You’re seeming rather more content, these days.”</p><p>“My apologies for giving you a false impression. I am, as usual, quite miserable.” He bent further over his paper. He was creating a record of Draco Malfoy’s acts of sabotage against the Dark Lord to be sent to the Ministry in the eventuality of his death. It would be beyond tragic if the boy ended up in Azkaban after everything else. And, perhaps, a bit of extra evidence would make all the difference, as long as whatever government arose from the ashes of the current administration didn’t decide to go the route of wholesale execution of everyone with a Mark. That was rather a toss-up. If Harry was alive, they would probably be safe. Maybe Harry would end up Minister of Magic. </p><p>He laughed a little at the thought. Harry would <em> hate </em> being Minister of Magic. All the god-awful paperwork. He’d probably resign within weeks if he didn’t just tell whoever nominated him to piss off. </p><p>“You aren’t fighting me so much anymore,” Albus continued, and when Severus looked up from his work, he saw the old man staring fixedly at him with his piercing, painted eyes. They weren’t quite as intimidating as they had been in life, but the effect was still pretty strong. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your sudden docility. What’s happened to you?”</p><p>“Why should I fight with you?” Severus asked, trying to hold down his hackles at being called <em> docile</em>. “You’re dead.”</p><p>“That’s never stopped you before. Tell me.”</p><p>Severus glared at him and leaned back in his chair. “How much detail would you like, Albus? I could draw you an anatomical diagram.”</p><p>“I am quite serious, Severus. Why are you behaving this way?”</p><p>Severus laughed again at that, suddenly recalling how offended Harry had been by his politeness at the beginning of last term. He’d called it <em> bullshit. </em>And it was bullshit, and so was everything else. “Well, Albus,” he began. “If you must know, I am not fighting with you because I’ve resolved to ignore you and focus on Harry. His power is incredible. Far greater than you ever saw in life. So, I’ve decided that you are severely incorrect, and I will not waste any more time on you.”</p><p>Albus gave him a pitying look. It was one he’d seen before, and suddenly Severus was no longer feeling <em> content. </em> Albus had worn just that expression the night Severus came to him begging for Lily’s protection. That <em> pity. </em> Well, <em> fuck </em> Albus Dumbeldore<em>. </em>Severus wasn’t asking him for anything, now. Not a goddamn thing.</p><p>“As long as you tell him what he must do,” Albus said. “Believe what you like.”</p><p>“Oh, I’ll tell him,” Severus sneered. “I’ll show him all the awful things you said to me, and all the times I begged you for reprieve.” He stood up, slapping his hands down on either side of his letter. “But you listen to me, you cursed piece of second-rate paint by numbers <em>rubbish.</em> Harry Potter is a force of such chaos that the laws of magic crumble before him. He is a divine spirit connected directly whatever well of magical energy impowers all our kind. Let alone <em>broken, </em>he cannot even be <em>tarnished</em>. He is unspeakably precious, as I have said before. And if you persist in asking me, I will only say it again.” Severus glared into his eyes, and Albus stared right back, unintimidated.</p><p>“You are deluding yourself,” he said. </p><p>“I am an expert at self-delusion, Albus,” Severus answered with icy disdain. “As you well know. But <em> this </em> is not <em> that.” </em></p><p>Albus steepled his fingers, and didn’t speak for a long moment. “You really do love him, don’t you?” he finally asked, and Severus sat back down.</p><p>“More than life itself, you despicable bastard,” he answered. “And you yourself told him that love is the source of his power, did you not?”</p><p>“I did,” Albus answered. “It is his unrivaled capacity to love that will give him the strength to sacrifice himself.”</p><p>Severus stood back up with so much force that his chair hit the wall. “If you ever say those words to me again I will shred you,” he hissed. Then, he took a deep breath, righted his chair, and sat in it. “Now, if you don’t mind, Headmaster, I am trying to save Draco Malfoy from the <em> gallows.”  </em></p><p>He took up his quill.</p><p>“Just so long as you tell him.”</p><p>“I’LL FUCKING TELL HIM!”</p><p>His inkwell exploded.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>By the first of May, Draco had spent five consecutive nights on Severus’ sofa, which was a little odd and uncomfortable, but not as annoying as he might have anticipated. Draco was very quiet, and kept to himself. More annoying - though necessary, of course - was his behavior out in the castle. For Draco had once again started trailing around behind Severus with his head down at every opportunity, and showed up rumpled, and tearful, and late to breakfast. He made eye contact with absolutely no one, and did not eat much at all. </p><p>He was behaving perfectly, in short, and though whomever had gone to the Dark Lord with suspicions of romantic entanglement seemed to be placated, Severus still did not like it. He had to tell Draco to stop when they were alone, and refused point-blank to tolerate any fearful groveling in his rooms. He made Draco sit in the damn armchair and not on the floor, and speak to him like a person instead of a slave, and Draco told him it was hard to switch back and forth like that, and Severus told him to just fucking practice.</p><p>It made him angry, and he had to remind himself multiple times a day that Harry wanted him to do it. Harry wanted Draco to survive, and Severus did what Harry wanted, and that was all. So, he tolerated it. </p><p>The peak insult, however, was that the other Professors did not seem half as disturbed at Draco’s truly alarming behavior as they had at Harry’s soulful gazes. Let alone that Draco was acting like a victim of rape and Harry had been acting like a besotted fool. Let alone that Draco appeared in classes tear-stained and sometimes bleeding, and flinched when Severus spoke, while Harry had been perching on his desk and conjuring flowers. </p><p>No one seemed to care enough for Draco’s safety to say a single word. The other Professors did not lift a finger. Not even when Severus tried to deliberately provoke a response out of them by manhandling Draco out of the library in full view of Madam Pince and at least six students. It was like no one at all thought Draco deserved intervention. Like he was something disposable, or even despicable, because of his last name. </p><p>Apparently <em> Slytherins </em>did not inspire the same sympathy as a tender, innocent angel like Harry Potter. Which, of course, was just the sort of prejudice that forced the children of Deatheaters into the arms of the Dark Lord. Who could they turn to, where else could they go, when no one thought they were worth saving? </p><p>He supposed the most charitable interpretation of this loathsome apathy was that the other Professors did not dare interfere with Severus himself, and he wondered what he and Harry might have gotten away with if he’d been the terrifying Deatheater Headmaster during their time together at school. Maybe he could have declared Harry his personal assistant and posted him up at the staff table. Maybe he could have moved Harry right into his rooms and dared anyone question it. </p><p>Just kept him down there, where no one else could touch him.</p><p>Slept beside him every night, and fed him, and kissed him whenever he wanted.</p><p>That would have been mad.</p><p> </p><p>Aside from all that nonsense, there were a few more recent changes to life at Hogwarts. The Carrows had been given leeway to physically beat and torture students after Easter Holidays, and outside the school, the families of the more rebellious children were getting hit with reprisals. It was ugly, and there wasn’t very much Severus could do without tipping his hand. So, in a way, he was grateful when something so awful happened that it terrified the insurgents into hiding. And that awful thing was the torture of Michael Corner. </p><p>Amycus caught the boy attempting to release a first year from her “detention” of being strung up by the arms, and had tortured him to within an inch of his life. Michael spent a full week in the hospital wing - Poppy had needed to intubate him to administer healing potions - and after that, the others moved underground. It was brutal, but with most of the troublemakers now sequestered away in the Room of Requirement, Severus didn’t have to make quite as many questionable compromises. Everything was still very sideways, of course, but with the student body cowed, he could more easily turn a blind eye, the way Minerva and Flitwick and Sprout and Sinistra and all the others looked away from Draco. </p><p> </p><p>Merlin, what they all must think of him. </p><p> </p><p>Severus stared sourly out over the student body, tapping his fingers against the tablecloth. It was near the end of supper, and the house tables were as full as they ever were. Amycus and Alecto were talking across him about some infraction or other, but Severus tuned them out. He was anxious. He hadn’t heard anything from Harry since six that morning when he’d received the very cryptic message: <em> [Time to go. Love you] </em> </p><p>
  <em> ‘Time to go?’  </em>
</p><p>What an awful thing to send by itself. And Harry hadn’t said a single fucking word after that, which Severus did not appreciate. He felt declawed. Defanged. Shackled, and disarmed, and neutralized, and crippled, and every other word for being cruelly stripped of his ability to protect the only person on earth that he cared about. </p><p>He tapped his foot, and Draco caught his eye from his lonely post at the end of the Slytherin table. His housemates did not associate with him anymore, but Draco did not seem to mind. He seemed relieved, in a way. Probably because he didn’t have to pretend to be normal for anyone. School must seem incredibly frivolous to him now, the way Harry had scoffed at the house cup after he’d cut Draco open. </p><p>Draco raised his eyebrows, and Severus realized he’d been staring and gave him a small shake of the head. Draco looked down at his plate. A few seats away, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sneered and then glanced up at the high table with matching expressions of approval, so Severus glowered back at them until they stopped smiling.</p><p>Fucking junior Deatheaters. If they still thought this was fun they obviously hadn’t ever really participated. The first real assignment from the Dark Lord always stripped the arrogance from the faces of all but the most mentally ill. </p><p>Maybe Severus could do something to them. Blame it on Peeves, or one of the illusive members of Dumbledore’s Army. Dump bubotuber pus on them… offer his condolences for their disfigurements… give them incorrect antidotes and make it worse…  </p><p>What he really wanted to do, of course, was demand more information from Harry. But he couldn’t right then. Not until he was out of the Great Hall, at least. He looked at the clock for the five-hundredth time, picked a loose thread off of the tablecloth and rolled it into a ball, wondering if he really would have to read about his lover’s exploits in the bloody newspaper.</p><p>But then a rustle of movement caught his attention, and he looked back up to see a knot of activity near the middle of the Ravenclaw table. There was a ripple of whispering, and some shushing and pointing, and then Terry Boot waved his friends off and leapt to his feet.</p><p>“OI!” he bellowed, climbing up onto the table and cupping his hands around his mouth. “LISTEN UP! HARRY’S BEEN SPOTTED!” Voices began to erupt all over the hall. </p><p>“HARRY?”</p><p>“Harry Potter?”</p><p>“Potter? Where?”</p><p>Severus stood up. </p><p>“SHUT UP! I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU!” Boot shouted, shifting back and holding out his hands as Amycus and Alecto jumped to their feet to silence him, drawing their wands. “HE BROKE INTO GRINGOTTS! AND - ”</p><p>“QUIET! Get down from there you filthy blood-traitor - ”</p><p>“HE ESCAPED ON A DRAGON!”</p><p> </p><p>Chaos exploded.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you’re feeling real sad about Draco read my unrelated PWP “shocking proclivities” lol he has a good time in that</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Wit Beyond Measure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tomorrow's my birthday! Gonna spend it writing chapter 9 :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“Well, on the upside,” Ron said, dabbing some of Severus’ salve onto Hermione’s burned face. “We got the Horcrux.” He tossed the jar over to Harry and retrieved the bottle of dittany for himself.  “On the downside-”</p><p>“No <em> sword,” </em>Harry hissed, peeling back a singed bit of his jeans to reveal the angry burn beneath. Griphook had obviously anticipated their betrayal. He’d been ready to seize the sword at the first opportunity, and that was exactly what he’d done. Harry supposed they rather deserved it, though he certainly didn’t like it.</p><p>“No sword?” Ron repeated, agast. “That double-crossing little <em> scab.” </em></p><p>“Yeah,” Harry answered, pulling Hufflepuff's cup out of his pocket and setting it on the damp grass. It was still quite hot, but not <em> burning hot, </em> and it hadn’t tried to copy itself anymore once they’d left the vault. Small mercy.</p><p>“At least we don’t have to wear it while we figure out how to kill it,” Ron offered. “We’d look like right prats with that thing hanging around our necks.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “No weird psychological warfare this time.”</p><p>“Thank fuck for that. I don’t fancy losing my mind again so soon.” Ron looked sideways at Hermione, who was watching the dragon swoop low over the lake and scoop up water in its jaws. “Hate to undo all my hard work in the <em> groveling department,” </em> he muttered under his breath. </p><p>“What’ll happen to it, do you think?” Hermione asked, gazing wistfully at the great monster. “Will it be alright? It must have been trapped down there for ages to have gone blind.”</p><p>“You sound like Hagrid,” Ron laughed. “It’s a dragon, Hermione! Even blind, I think it can take care of itself.”</p><p>“Well I’m glad we got it out, anyway,” Hermione said. “Awful to keep it imprisoned like that.”</p><p>“Serves them right having a bloody hole blasted in their ceiling.”</p><p>Harry opened his mouth to answer, but his wrist warmed and he looked down at it. </p><p><em> [Harry?] </em> appeared.</p><p>
  <em> Yeah?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Can I ask you a question?] </em>
</p><p>Harry started to laugh. </p><p>“What?” Hermione asked, looking around. “What is it?”</p><p>Harry just touched the silver, and spoke out loud for the others to hear. “Gonna ask me if I broke into Gringotts and escaped on the back of a dragon?” </p><p><em> [Yes, I am] </em> Severus answered. <em> [Did you?] </em></p><p>He read that out loud, too, and all three of them immediately burst into gales of laughter. It felt quite impossible to stop once they’d started, and Harry distantly wondered if he was hysterical, or had suffered a head injury or something as he laughed and laughed until his throat and stomach ached. How had Severus found out so fast? Bloody <em> hilarious.  </em></p><p>“Merlin,” Ron gasped through his tears. “We are in sooooo much trouble.”</p><p>Hermione pitched onto her back, kicking her legs. “WE are going to JAIL!” she shrieked, erupting into another peal of laughter.</p><p>“Oh no, not <em> JAIL,” </em> Harry cackled. “Can’t have that! We -” He collapsed. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Well? What in Merlin’s name happened?” Severus demanded, pacing in his office. “Harry? Where are you? Are you injured? What were you doing? Harry? Harry!” No response came. That wasn’t good at all. A <em> dragon? </em>Merciful Merlin. What was he thinking? “HARRY I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY IF YOU DON’T ANSWER ME-” He broke off as a message finally appeared. </p><p>
  <em> [This is Hermione Harry is having a vision he’s seizing wait] </em>
</p><p>Seizing? Severus had never heard of Harry having a vision that caused <em> seizures. </em>What had he done? What had Harry stolen from Gringotts? He looked up at Dumbledore’s portrait. </p><p>“What the fuck did you tell him to do?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“FUCK-” Ron grunted, holding Harry’s shoulders down against the grass as he twisted and thrashed.</p><p>“Put him on his side!” Hermione cried. “If he - ”</p><p>“I can’t! He’s - struggling - too - hard - ” Ron was using almost his whole body weight to hold him down. “Merlin - he’s <em> strong - </em> Oh sh- <em> ” </em>Harry went limp and he almost fell onto him. “Fucking hell.” He caught himself on his hands and scrambled back. “Is he...?” </p><p>“He’s unconscious,” Hermione whispered, and looked at Ron. “I’ve never seen him react that way before. Not even after Godric’s Hollow, and that was the worst one I’ve ever seen. Have you?”</p><p>“No,” Ron answered. “Usually he just - sort of - falls over and gets sweaty. Nothing like <em> that. </em>Jeez.” He wiped the sweat from his own face. “Should we try to wake him up or something?” </p><p>“I don’t know,” she answered, reaching over to feel Harry’s pulse. He was cold and clammy, but his heartbeat was strong. “Maybe we should - oh!” A shimmer of silver caught her eye and she took his hand to look.</p><p><em> [Hermione?] </em>she read, and pulled out her wand to answer.</p><p>“Yes, Professor Snape?” Her voice was shaking.</p><p>
  <em> [Is he alright? Has it stopped?] </em>
</p><p>“Yes. He’s… he’s still, now.”</p><p>
  <em> [How's his breathing? And his color?] </em>
</p><p>“He’s pale but he’s breathing,” she said. “And his pulse is ok. I checked.”</p><p>“Ask him if something happened,” Ron said. </p><p>
  <em> [Good. Are you somewhere safe?] </em>
</p><p>“We’re under some wards,” Hermione answered. “What - What should we do?”</p><p><em> [Just wait. If it’s a vision it should pass] </em> She reached out to answer but another line of text appeared before she could speak. <em> [I’m being called. No more messages] </em></p><p>She lowered Harry’s arm gently back to the grass. “He knows,” she said slowly. “You Know Who knows what we’ve done.” </p><p>“Shit,” Ron breathed. </p><p>And then, a few minutes later when Harry suddenly sat up, he said it, too. </p><p>“He knows.” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus did not even recognize the parlor of Malfoy Manor when he arrived. There were bodies everywhere. Likely more than a dozen. And in the center of the carnage stood the Dark Lord, looking quite calm, with Nagini at his feet. </p><p>“My Lord,” Severus said, kneeling down before him to kiss the hem of his robes. There was a body laying in a pool of blood just to his left, and Severus looked away from it, only to have his gaze immediately fall on the glassy black eyes of a dead goblin sparkling blindly up at him. This, then, was what caused Harry to react so strongly. This violence. Whatever Harry had done at Gringotts, it triggered such fury in the Dark Lord that the spillover caused convulsions. </p><p>Must have been something good.</p><p>“You called?” He did not look up.</p><p>“Yes, Severus,” the Dark Lord answered, resting his hand on the top of Severus’ head. “I have a task for you. Vital.”</p><p>“I live to serve.”</p><p>“The Potter boy may try to enter the school,” Voldemort continued at once, and Severus crushed the spark of fear that tried to ignite inside him. This candor was uncommon. Usually there was more buildup. More… drama. The Dark Lord was obviously in a hurry. “It is critical that he be prevented. Do you understand me?”</p><p>
  <em> Steady, now. Steady. </em>
</p><p>“Does my Lord wish for his death, If I should locate him?” Severus asked.</p><p>“Oh, no, Severus.” The long, scaly fingers stroked into the hair at the crown of his head. It was a revolting parody of affection, like something a prize-winning steer might experience in an abattoir. He kept his head down. “My orders to that point have not changed. Prevent him from entering the school. Capture him. Hold him, for me. He may try to enter Ravenclaw Tower. Take care that it is manned.”</p><p>“Yes, my Lord,” Severus breathed reverently, but the next words that escaped him came out without premeditation, and he knew he’d made a mistake before he’d even closed his mouth. “But… Ravenclaw Tower? Why? The boy is a Gryffindor.” </p><p>Voldemort jerked his head back by the hair.</p><p>“<em>Why?” </em>he hissed. </p><p>“Apologies,” Severus gasped, and the Dark Lord cast him aside. He landed on the body of a Wizard. He was face down, and blood had matted his wavy brown hair into a black mass. Might have been Travers. It was impossible to tell.</p><p>“Do not question me,” the Dark Lord snarled. “Do as you’re told and guard the school.”</p><p>“Yes, my Lord,” Severus repeated, genuflecting before him and raising his hands in submission. Blood was soaking into the knees of his slacks through his robes. He could feel it. Cold, and tacky, sticking to his skin. Thank God the Dark Lord was in a hurry. “Potter will not set foot in Hogwarts while I remain Headmaster.”</p><p>“Go, now,” Voldemort spat, turning away. “Now!”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“We have to go. Right now,” Harry said, staggering to his feet. “The last Horcrux is at Hogwarts. I <em> knew it.” </em></p><p>“What? Hogwarts?” Hermione gasped. “But - Harry, we can’t just <em> go. </em> We need a plan!”</p><p>“No.” Harry shook his head hard to clear it. “We have to go now. He thinks Hogwarts is the safest because Severus is there. He’s going to check there last. If we wait, it’s over. Can you imagine what he’ll do once he finds out the ring and locket are gone? He just killed about a dozen Deatheaters for just <em> telling him </em> about the cup. If he beats us to Hogwarts this is DONE. Come on.”</p><p>“Harry, we can’t just apparate!” Hermione insisted, grabbing his arm. “Who knows what sort of protection there is? It could be anything!”</p><p>“Ask Snape!” Ron said. “Harry - Ask Snape how to get in! He’s gotta know. He knows bloody everything!”</p><p>Harry looked at his bracelet. If Severus was with the Dark Lord now, and he sent a message, it might endanger him. No matter that Severus said his barriers were easier to repair. He hadn’t said they were<em> stronger. </em>Speaking to him now seemed fatally foolish. “I dunno,” he said. “I dunno if it’s safe to contact him just now. You Know Who might be right next to him, or - Oh!” His cuff warmed. </p><p>
  <em> [Hogsmeade is not safe. Anti-apparition jinxes. Caterwauling Charm. Dementors. You’ll have to apparate straight into the Hog’s Head. Bar man is Albus’ brother, Aberforth. It’s the only way] </em>
</p><p>Harry read it out loud and then looked up at the others. </p><p>“Mate,” Ron said. “If we survive, I’M going to kiss him.”</p><p><em> You’re brilliant, </em> Harry sent back, <em> thank you, </em>and the three of them linked arms, and turned on the spot into the crushing darkness. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“MERLIN’S BEARD!” Aberforth gasped, dropping a flagon of mead as three people appeared in his bar. “What is the meaning of th- but, Potter? Are you INSANE?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus paced his rooms, twisting Harry’s little stone snake in his hands, waiting. He’d sent Alecto up to Ravenclaw tower, and Amycus to patrol the grounds. Alecto was the most incompetent, and hopefully Harry could handle her easily. If he went to Ravenclaw Tower, that was. But why should he? Why? He paced. He had no idea how Aberforth was getting food into the school, but Albus said he was, and if he could get food in, he could get Harry in. But still, no new messages came for what felt like an eternity. He hoped Harry was using that time to rest, at least. Drink some water, or eat, or something. Since he’d broken into Gringotts and broken out with a dragon, and then suffered convulsions. </p><p>And. </p><p>Whatever else had happened to him. </p><p>Severus chewed on his fingernails and then stuffed his hand into his pocket. Good Lord he’d trained himself out of that bad habit twenty-five years ago, and here it was again to plague him. </p><p> </p><p>Nearly two hours passed before a new message finally appeared, and when it did, Severus realized that his damn fingernails were back in his mouth and he made a fist.  </p><p><em> [He’s going to come tonight. Where are you?] </em>appeared.</p><p>“Dungeons,” Severus answered. “Where are you?” </p><p><em> [Room of Requirement] </em> a pause. <em> [What did he tell you? Anything? Anything at all] </em></p><p>“He told me not to kill you. And… he told me to guard Ravenclaw Tower,” Severus answered. “I sent Alecto. She’s… not very smart.”</p><p>
  <em> [That is perfect. Just wait] </em>
</p><p>“What? What’s perfect? Harry? Wait for what? Do you need me to come?” </p><p>
  <em> [No. Stay where you are] </em>
</p><p>Nothing else came, and he paced again. </p><p>Harry was inside the castle. Should he go up? He wanted to. He <em> really </em> wanted to. But Albus told him to trust Harry, and he did. He trusted Harry, and Harry told him to stay, so he stayed. </p><p>And paced. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>All seemed calm in Ravenclaw Tower. It was airy and wide, with large, gracefully arched windows and a smattering of tables and chairs. These were far less comfortable-looking than the ones Harry had frequented in Gryffindor Tower, but he supposed Ravenclaws were pretty serious people. He crept further into the room, moving slowly so the cloak wouldn’t slip off of Luna huddled up behind him, but he couldn’t see Alecto Carrow anywhere. He didn’t see anyone at all, in fact, though there was a niche opposite the door with a white marble statue of Rowena Rawenclaw. Luna pointed at it. That was what they’d come for, of course, and they moved closer to look at the circlet on her head. </p><p>The diadem.</p><p>Harry read the inscription silently to himself.</p><p> </p><p><em> Wit Beyond Measure is Man’s Greatest Treasure. </em> </p><p> </p><p>The Dark Lord told Severus to guard Ravenclaw Tower. Surely that meant that the missing object belonged to Ravenclaw, to match Slytherin’s Locket and Hufflepuff’s cup. But how could it be? The only known artifact that belonged to Ravenclaw was the diadem, and all the Ravenclaws holed up in the Room of Requirement could tell him about it was that no one had seen it for hundreds of years. Could Voldemort travel through time as well as fly? Surely not. But still, <em> ‘guard Ravenclaw Tower,’ </em> was an indispensable clue. It must be the diadem. So, where was Alecto? The tower was silent. </p><p>He looked at Luna and gestured back towards the corridor, but as she nodded and took a step, a sudden pain struck him in the head and he cried out. Instantly, the serene Ravenclaw common room vanished and was replaced with the image of a golden box, disinterred and empty, followed by a scream of fury so loud he thought his skull might vibrate to pieces. </p><p>“AHA!” came a shrill voice - it was distant - from outside the vision - and then there was another tearing pain in his scar, and a bang, and Harry wrenched himself back out of Voldemort’s mind to find himself on the floor with Luna’s disembodied arm floating in midair above him.</p><p>“Ooh,” she said, poking her head out, too. “I’ve never Stunned anyone except in our D.A. lessons. That was noisier than I thought it would be. Are you alright, Harry? You screamed.” </p><p>Harry clambered to his feet, and, sure enough, Alecto Carrow was on her back. “Yeah. I’m fine, Luna. Thanks. Nice one.” She smiled at him. </p><p>“She touched her Mark, though, Harry,” she said. “Is that bad?” </p><p>“Yeah. That’s bad,” Harry answered, and then, as scurrying footsteps began to shake the ceiling above, he reached out his hands. “I need to get under the cloak!” </p><p>Ravenclaws began to pour down the spiral staircase. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The Mark seared white hot on Severus’ arm, and when he felt that pain, he realized that he did not trust Harry quite enough to let that pass. Alecto must have caught him, or she would never have dared call for the Dark Lord. False alarms were a death sentence. She had to have him. And that, Severus would not allow. </p><p>He strode out into the dungeons and headed off towards the main castle at a fast clip. He passed the Potions lab, and the ingredients stores, and the Slytherin dormitories without incident. But then, just as he turned the corner towards the entrance leading to the Great Hall, Draco burst into the corridor so forcefully that they slammed right into each other. </p><p>“What the-” Draco gasped, knocked back, and Severus seized his shoulders to keep him from falling. </p><p>“Draco!”</p><p>“Did you feel that?” Draco demanded, grabbing his robes and looking up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “Did you feel it?”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus answered. “I felt it.”</p><p>Draco shoved him away. “Then GO TO HIM! GOD!” </p><p>They separated. Draco, pelting off towards the common room, and Severus out onto the ground floor. The halls were silent, and he started to run as he passed the Great Hall, taking the marble stairs two at a time, and then to sprint as he heard Amycus Carrow hammering on the portal to Ravenclaw Tower and screaming at the guardian. </p><p>“GODDAMN DOOR! OPEN! ALECTO! ALECTO?” He hammered harder, and the eagle knocker glared at him.</p><p>“What has words but never speaks?” it said in it’s singsong voice.</p><p>“I dunno, do I?” Amycus shouted. “OPEN!”</p><p>Severus drew up short a few meters away, catching his breath. Amycus had obviously tried multiple times to get a riddle like that. The Ravenclaw guardian tended to take pity on idiots, giving them easier questions after a few failed attempts. To help them<em> learn. </em></p><p>“ALECTO!” Amycus shouted again. “If he comes, and we haven’t got Potter - do you want to go the same way as the Malfoys? Do you? ANSWER ME!” He started violently shaking the handle. “ALECTOOO!”</p><p>“May I offer you some assistance, Professor Carrow?” Severus asked, straightening his robes as he took the last few steps to stand beside him.</p><p>“Snape!” Amycus gasped, whirling around. He sounded quite relieved to see his commanding officer. How unfortunate for him. “My sister - she isn’t answering! I think something’s happened to her! And I - can’t - get the fucking door to open! Call Flitwick!”</p><p>“Stand aside,” Severus sneered. He rapped once with his knuckles.</p><p>“What has words but never speaks?” the eagle repeated, turning its eyes to rest on him.</p><p>“A <em> book,” </em>he answered tersely, and as the door swung open, he glared at Amycus, and then swept inside to see Alecto on the floor, stiff as a board.</p><p>“What’ve they done, the little whelps?” Amycus gasped. “I’ll cruciate the lot of ‘em till they tell me who did it - and what’s the Dark Lord going to say?” he smacked himself in the forehead. “We haven’t got him, and they’ve gone and killed her!”</p><p>“She’s only stunned,” Severus answered, nudging her with his foot and scanning the room with his eyes. It seemed quite empty. But then, a bit to the left of Alecto’s body, a green eye behind a circular spectacle lense appeared, crinkled in greeting, and then vanished. </p><p>A pulse of fiery pride rippled through Severus’ veins. Harry was so <em> fearless </em>. There had never been anyone like him before in the history of humanity, and there never would be again, he was sure. He turned back to his companion. </p><p>“Oh, and Amycus,” he said. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You shouldn’t have tried to hurt Harry.” For a moment, the Deatheater just looked at him in utter bewilderment. It was almost a disappointment. He was too bloody stupid to realize he was being betrayed. Severus rolled his eyes and raised his wand. “My God, man,” he said. “Pay attention. <em> CRUCIO!”  </em></p><p>Harry whipped off his cloak as Amycus fell to the floor in spasms of agony. “Wow,” he said. “Brutal.”</p><p>“I told you I’d do worse,” Severus answered over the shrieking. </p><p>“Oh, look, it’s Professor Snape,” Luna said. “Is he on our side now?”</p><p>“Don’t worry about that,” Harry answered her, and turned back to Severus. “What should we do with them?”</p><p>“I could kill them for you, if you’d like,” Severus said, and lifted the curse, leaving Amycus panting and dazed on the floor. “I might prefer that. They’ve been torturing your friends. Or, if you’re feeling generous, we could be merciful and incapacitate them. Leave them for later. <em> Crucio.” </em>Amycus resumed his thrashing, and Severus sneered down at him. “Bastard.”</p><p>But then Harry’s hand closed over his forearm, lowering his wand, and a tremor ran through Severus’ body like an electric current. How long had it been since they’d been close enough to touch? A month? It felt like a <em> year.  </em></p><p>Harry gave him a little grin.</p><p>“Now, now, Severus,” he said. “You’ll scare the Ravenclaws. Can’t leave a couple dead bodies in the middle of their common room. They’ve only just run back upstairs.”</p><p>
  <em> Don’t kill them, it might scare the Ravenclaws? Sweet, merciful Merlin. Forget the war. Stun Lovegood, ward the room, and fuck him on the floor. </em>
</p><p>“God, I’ve missed you,” Severus breathed, and turned his wand back on Amycus. “No bodies. <em> Imperio!” </em>The Deatheater twitched once as the spell hit him, and then stood up, tottered over to his sister, and disarmed her. Then he returned to Severus, handed over their wands, and laid down on the floor. “What would you like?” Severus asked. “Freezing charm? Paralytic? Ropes?”</p><p>“Oh, let me,” Harry answered, and raised his hands. A torrent of cords shot out of his fingertips and towards the prone Deatheaters, binding them tightly together.</p><p>“Did I teach you that?” Severus asked, and Harry gave him a mischievous little wink as he directed the bodies to hang from the ceiling like a pair of grotesque lanterns. </p><p>“Kinda,” he said. </p><p>“I’m such a bad influence on you. Care to dispose of these as well?” Severus held out the wands. “We wouldn’t want them to be armed if they somehow escape, would we?”</p><p>“No, we wouldn’t,” Harry answered, taking the pair from his hand. “What’s a good way to destroy wands? Fire?” He closed his fingers around them. They started to smoke almost immediately, and then smoulder, and then glow a deep red. “Fucking Deatheaters,” he muttered, and Severus watched, riveted, as they turned black and crumbled to the carpet like so much discarded coal.</p><p>“That is… uncommon magic, Potter,” he breathed, and looked up at Harry’s eyes, green, and lovely, and filled with a blazing heat.</p><p>“Is it?”</p><p> </p><p>They seized each other.</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh,” Luna said again as Harry hit the bookcases, locked in a passionate embrace. “Well that’s certainly new.” She looked up at the Carrows dangling from the ceiling, and then back at Harry with his hands tangled in Severus’ robes and one leg hooked around him, and Severus’ fist in his hair. “Um, Harry… I know you’re kind of busy just now, but didn’t you say the Dark Lord was on his way?”</p><p>“Oh, <em> shit!” </em> Harry gasped, turning his face away to break the kiss. Severus did not seem to care about that, though. He just moved to Harry’s neck, sealing his mouth over the soft spot below his ear, and pressing him harder into the bookcases with one thigh between his legs. “Ah - <em> fuck </em> - Hey - Severus! Stop that! Luna - I’m really sorry.” He shoved hard on Severus’ chest and then smacked him on the shoulder. “Get off! You’re distracting me!” </p><p> </p><p>“What?” Severus asked, annoyed. But then he looked around. “Oh.” He forced his hands to let go. “I’m sorry - I - forgot where I was.” </p><p>“Yeah, me too,” Harry panted, pushing him further back. “But you have to go, right now. There’s no time for any of <em> that.” </em>He gestured at Severus’ body, opened and closed his hands, and then let out his breath in a controlled stream. “Nooo time. I’ll summon the other teachers.” He turned away, but Severus grabbed his arm.</p><p>“Wait -”</p><p>Harry whirled back around, pulling free with surprising violence. “Severus!” he said. “You have to GO. The Dark Lord is coming, and he’s coming fast. Fucking <em>Alecto</em> called him, and you’re his right hand man. So go fix your <em>shit,”</em> he pointed at Severus’ forehead. “Patch up whatever cracks I just made, go to him, and stab him in the back, right? At a <em>critical moment?” </em>Harry started tucking his shirt back in and Severus rather wondered if he’d untucked it. He might have. He took a step forward, and then stopped.</p><p>He had to focus. This was not the time to be thinking about Harry’s skin. Even though he hadn’t touched it for a <em> month. </em> And he was <em> right there. </em> And <em> fuck </em> did he taste good.</p><p>
  <em> Control yourself. Merlin. You’re a grown man. </em>
</p><p>He glanced at Luna.</p><p>
  <em> How embarrassing. </em>
</p><p>“I… yes,” he began, brushing his hair back into place. He’d had questions before, hadn’t he? Before that excruciating display of magical prowess, and his sudden return to a state of adolescent need. Questions. Yes. “Right. I will. But - why are you here? Why Ravenclaw tower? And - what did you get from Gringotts? The Dark Lord executed a whole cadre of Deatheaters for it.”</p><p>“Good. Fuck’em,” Harry answered. “But I can’t tell you what I’m-” He broke off, and a flurry of expressions passed over his face. Resolve, indecision, fear, excitement, and resolve again. “Actually, maybe I can.” He glanced at Luna, and up at the Carrows. “Look,” said. “Voldmeort knows what I’m doing and he’s coming here to stop me. If I find what I’m after, this is it.” He met Severus’ eyes. “And I mean <em> tonight.” </em></p><p>Severus almost asked him what he meant by <em> it, </em> but he knew, really. <em> It </em> was the end of the war. <em> It </em>was the final conflict, the battle, the siege, the assassination, the slaughter - whatever the end would be, it was happening right now, and abruptly, Severus did not want to let Harry out of his sight.</p><p>“Harry-” He reached out his hands, but Harry slapped them away.</p><p>“Don’t say whatever you’re thinking!” he demanded, pointing at his chest. “Listen to me, ok? If this is it, then you aren’t going to have to spy anymore, right?”</p><p>“I - no. I suppose not.” Harry was right. Severus was either going to be dead on the battlefield, or by Harry’s side. </p><p>Or both. </p><p>“Ok. Then there’s no reason for you not to know. So pay attention. Voldemort killed all those Deatheaters because I’m hunting his Horcruxes. I’ve already gotten three. Dumbledore got one. There’s only one more, somewhere in the school - something to do with Ravenclaw - and the snake.”</p><p>“What’s a Horcrux?” Luna asked.</p><p>“What?” Severus asked, appalled. <em> “Six?” </em></p><p>Even a single Horcrux was the stuff of legend. In the scant literature there were only records of a handful of Wizards even attempting to create a Horcrux, and in those few accounts, the Wizard in question always expressed deep regret, torturous remorse, and above all, the agony they’d undergone to do the deed at all. But <em> six? </em>And one of them was Nagini? What sort of mad lunatic would make a living creature a Horcrux? They were far too easy to destroy. An animal? A living thing, with a splintered shard of soul forced inside it? A living, breathing, sentient - </p><p>He shoved the thought out of his head. </p><p>
  <em> Harry is speaking. Focus.  </em>
</p><p>“Seven, including him,” Harry said. “We stole number four from Bellatrix’s vault. I’m almost there. I’m almost done. But he knows what I’m doing, now. He’s coming here last because he thinks you’re protecting the school from me. So you have to go. And - listen - don’t die.”</p><p>Severus grabbed his head in both hands, ignoring Harry’s squawk of protest. Seven? And they were down to three, and they knew where all of them were? Merlin, they were so close. It really was tonight. The end of everything. “YOU don’t die,” he said. “I mean it!”</p><p>“If you see the snake, kill it,” Harry answered. “I’ll take care of Voldemort.”</p><p>An icy fist appeared inside Severus’ chest.</p><p>Kill the snake? That was the signal, wasn’t it? <em> There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake. </em> That was what Albus told him, and now he knew why. Nagini was a fucking <em> Horcrux.  </em></p><p>“Harry,” he began again, trying to think of a way to speak the words - <em> there is something I have to tell you. </em> “Harry, I-”</p><p>“Severus - don’t,” Harry interrupted him. “Just don’t. Whatever it is, tell me later. I have to find the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw and I can’t have you slowing me down.”</p><p>“But - The what?” How in God’s name did he expect to find that?</p><p>“HEY!” Harry insisted, grabbing his hands. “I love you, but I gotta go. Now. Ok? I love you.”</p><p>Severus blinked down at him, his mind whirring frantically. What was he supposed to do? Try to stop him? Try to go with him? Try to get him to run? What?</p><p>The image of Harry sending a ball of golden light out over the sea flashed into his mind, along with the tactile memory of Harry’s body, warm in his arms. </p><p>
  <em> Love him, and pray.  </em>
</p><p>“You are my whole heart,” Severus said. “And you are more powerful than the Dark Lord by far. Remember that.” Harry’s eyebrows drew down. “I love you.”</p><p>“Aw,” Luna said. “Did he send Dobby to save us?”</p><p>They both looked over at her and then back at each other. </p><p>“I have to Obliviate her,” Severus said. </p><p>“Yeah, I think you do,” Harry answered. “Don’t take too much, though, ok?”</p><p>Severus just kissed him on the forehead, released him, and turned his wand on Luna. <em> “Obliviate!” </em></p><p>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Fiends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Lisa Turpin and Mandy Brocklehurst are actual canon characters I did not make them up lol</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The door to Ravenclaw tower slammed shut, and in the quiet that followed, faces began to appear at the top of the spiral staircase.</p><p>“What the fuck,” Lisa Turpin said quietly. “What… the fuck.”</p><p>“Was that Harry Potter?” one of the third years asked. </p><p>“With the Headmaster?” a first year squeaked. “Lisa - What is happening?”</p><p>“I dunno, Tim. But it’s ok. Just stay calm.”</p><p>“Was that Luna? I thought she was dead,” Mandy Brocklehurst whispered. </p><p>“Did they kill the Carrows?” a pair of fourth-year twins asked in unison, looking at each other with matching expressions of glee. “That would be awesome!”</p><p>“No!” Lisa answered, shushing them. “Didn’t you hear Harry? They didn’t want to freak us out!”</p><p>“I am <em> freaked out,” </em> Mandy answered. “What in Merlin’s name is Harry Potter doing in the school, anyways? And the Lost Diadem? Come <em> on.” </em></p><p>“What should we do? Call Flitwick? Or just… I dunno… wait?”</p><p>“Did Harry say he loved Snape?” Tim demanded. “I heard it!! That is WEIRD!”</p><p>“Snape said it back!!!”</p><p>“He said his <em> whole heart.” </em></p><p>“Harry called him <em> SEVERUS!” </em></p><p>“Yeah! What the heck-”</p><p>“They were <em> kissing </em> I heard <em> noises.” </em></p><p>“No, that’s CRAZY.”</p><p>“Didn’t he say the Dark Lord was coming?”</p><p>“Nah, he can’t have meant that.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“You know who? At Hogwarts?”</p><p>Someone started crying, and then a few others did, too, and Lisa turned to face them. She was their prefect. It was her job. Where the fuck Francis was, she had no idea. Useless bastard was probably still sleeping.</p><p>“Stop! Don’t panic, ok? If Harry’s here he’s probably got a plan.” Lisa looked back at the younger students clustered around the top of the staircase. “Don’t worry,” she said. “This is <em> Harry Potter </em> we’re talking about. And if Professor Snape’s- uh - h-helping him. Then. Uh. Everything is going to be fine.”</p><p>Lisa and Mandy grimaced at each other. </p><p>“Plus, he said he was getting the teachers!” one of the second years cried. “Flitwick! And McGonagall!”</p><p>“Yeah,” Mandy said. “It’s going to be fine. We just have to wait for the teachers.”</p><p>“Lets just… go back upstairs and wait.”</p><p>“They were <em> kissing.” </em></p><p>“GROSS.”</p><p>“Quiet!”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Out in the corridor, Harry proceeded to raise holy hell until McGonagall appeared in her old tartan dressing gown.</p><p>“What in Merlin’s name is going on here?” she demanded, rounding the corner. “What sort of - Potter!” She froze, clutching her heart. “And - Luna? Lord in heaven.” </p><p>She seemed about to swoon, but Harry did not give her any opportunity to succumb, as just at that moment a wrath blazed through his skull like physical pain. The corridor vanished, and for a split second he was looking through Voldemort’s eyes at a basin, empty of its precious cargo. If the Dark Lord was already at the cave, they might have only minutes. He clutched his head, trying his best to ignore the foreign fury tearing through his brain, and launched into a very abbreviated summary.</p><p>“Professor! Time’s running out - Voldemort is coming now! And - I’m - here on Dumbledore’s orders - I must find - what he wanted me to find-” The pain eased minutely, and he fought the urge to sink to his knees. “Please - we’ve got to get the students out while I’m searching the castle - It’s me Voldemort wants, but he won’t care about killing a few more or less.”</p><p>“Dumbledore’s orders?” she repeated with a look of dawning wonder. “Is this what you’ve - well. I suppose there isn’t time.” She drew herself up to her full height. “Yes! We shall secure the school against He Who Must Not Be Named while you search for this - this object.”</p><p>“Secure the school?” Harry asked, blinking hard. The image of the empty bowl was clouding his vision like a photonegative. “Is that… possible?” Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that the teachers would want to fight - at least not the ones that weren’t in the Order - but now that the agony was passing, it seemed obvious. Visions always made him pretty slow for a few seconds. Disoriented.</p><p>“I think so,” she answered dryly. “We teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we will be able to hold him off for a while, if we all put our best efforts into it. Something will have to be done about Professor Snape, though, of course. He-”</p><p>“Oh, I took care of that,” Harry interjected. McGonagall narrowed her eyes at him and he tried hard not to blush. </p><p>“Took… care of it?” </p><p>“I - Yeah…” Harry looked sideways at Luna standing serenely beside him. She was gazing quite blankly at a tapestry showing a pair of frolicking fairies. “He caught me in Ravenclaw tower. With the Carrows. I tied them up, and he… uh… ran away.”</p><p>“That <em> coward!” </em> Minerva spat, and Harry grimaced before he could stop himself. “Well. Heads of Houses, then. We have to organize an evacuation! <em> Expecto Patronum!” </em> Three silver cats burst out of her wand and streaked down the corridors. “But, Potter - How did you get into the school? There are Dementors at every entrance.”</p><p>“Oh there’s a passage from a room on the seventh floor straight into the Hog’s Head. There are tons of people in there right now. A lot more than you think, probably. I saw… some Order members in there. Fred and George. Cho, and y’know. Some other people.”</p><p>She goggled at him. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Try again,” Hermione said earnestly, wringing her hands. “C’mon - Hurry! I think it’s more… y’know. Sort of <em> strangled </em> sounding.” </p><p>“Yeah!” Moaning Myrtle cackled. “Like your head’s stuck in the toilet!”</p><p>“I’ve never <em> been in a toilet!” </em>Ron said in exasperation. “I’m trying to focus, Myrtle!”</p><p>“Fine,” Myrle said, pouting and turning away. “Jerk.”</p><p>Ron heaved a great sigh and focused back on the sink, doing his best to recreate the weird hissing gibberish Harry had used to open Voldemort’s locket. </p><p><em> “More </em> strangled!” Hermione repeated.</p><p>“Hermione! I’m doing the best I can!” He glared at the serpent scratched into the tap. </p><p>
  <em> More strangled. Fine. Bloody slytherin rubbish. Evil snake graffiti. Ugh. </em>
</p><p>He tried one more time, and apparently his frustration was just what was needed. At the horrible sound he made, the sink obediently disappeared, leaving a dark, sinister chute. </p><p>“Oh, great,” he groaned. “I was kind of hoping to never go in there again, actually.”</p><p>“Well, do you want to get rid of this cup or don’t you? We need the fangs,” Hermione answered, and stepped fearlessly into the hole. </p><p>“Merlin,” Ron whispered to himself as she disappeared into the forbidding darkness. “I love her.” </p><p>“Pff,” Myrtle scoffed. “She’s not even <em> pretty.” </em></p><p>Ron gave her two fingers.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I’m comin’ Draco,” Goyle said. “You can’t stop me.”</p><p>“Don’t you want to join your fathers?” Draco asked, trying to keep his intense anxiety from showing on his face. “You should go to them. Fight with them. I’ll hang back and wait for Potter. I’ve got nothing to lose. If I fail, I won’t be any worse off than I am now. You two still have status. You should fight. For the… glory.” He quailed inwardly. How did Snape get so good at pretending to be a Deatheater? It was hard.</p><p>“Nah,” Crabbe answered. “You dun control us anymore, Draco. We saw what happened to your dad and mum. And to <em> you. </em>You got nothing. If you think you can catch Potter, we want ‘im.”</p><p>“But…” Draco trailed off, looking around at the empty common room. Every other Slytherin had trouped obediently to the Great Hall with the rest of the school, and he couldn’t think of a way to persuade his <em> friends </em> to go, too. There was a time that Crabbe and Goyle would have done absolutely anything he told them to do, and be happy to obey, but that time was long gone. They didn’t respect or fear or even <em> like </em> him anymore, and they were too stupid to understand how risky it was to stay behind, and too ambitious to want to give up the opportunity for advancement. He’d have to get rid of them some other way. “Fine,” he said. “Come with me then. But if you get in my way I’ll curse you.”</p><p>“And if you get in <em> my </em>way,” Crabbe growled back at him, thumping one fist into his palm. “I’ll do you like Snape does, understand?”</p><p>Draco stood a little taller, trying to recover some of his old gravitas. This moronic thug thought he could intimidate Draco the way Rowle did, did he? He thought he could curry favor by going to the Dark Lord with Draco’s private business? Well. Incorrect. </p><p>He raised an imperious eyebrow at Crabbe’s fist, and sneered. “Professor Snape likes to <em> slap, </em> actually,” he said. “And you might not be afraid of <em> me </em> anymore, Crabbe, but everyone is afraid of <em> him. </em> If we capture Potter we’re going straight to Snape with him. Unless you want to be <em> crucioed </em>into insanity, of course.”</p><p>“I ain’t afraid of Snape,” Crabbe muttered, and Draco gave him a withering look.</p><p>“That’s because you’re an illiterate ignoramus that wouldn’t know a guillotine from a butterknife.” He pushed past the two of them and out into the hall before Crabbe could retort, and froze. </p><p><em>“I KNOW THAT YOU ARE PREPARING TO FIGHT. YOUR EFFORTS ARE FUTILE. YOU CANNOT FIGHT ME, AND I DO NOT WANT TO KILL YOU,” </em>came Voldemort’s voice, the words echoing all through the dungeons, and, Draco knew, all through the grounds. Hogsmeade too, probably, stopping every soul in their tracks for miles around. <em>“I HAVE GREAT RESPECT FOR THE TEACHERS OF HOGWARTS. I DO NOT WANT TO SPILL MAGICAL BLOOD. GIVE ME HARRY POTTER, AND NONE SHALL BE HARMED. GIVE ME HARRY POTTER, AND I SHALL LEAVE THE SCHOOL UNTOUCHED. GIVE ME HARRY POTTER, AND YOU WILL BE REWARDED. YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT.” </em></p><p>The voice echoed away, and in the oppressive silence, Draco wondered where Snape had gone. This was not a good time for Potter to be alone. Alone, and undefended, somewhere in the castle. Not good.</p><p>“Potter,” Crabbe and Goyle growled in unison from behind him, and Draco glanced back to see their faces alight with excitement. </p><p>
  <em> Bloody psychopaths. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> What the fuck are you going to do about this? Kill them? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Merlin, how did you get into this? </em>
</p><p>“Lets go,” he said shakily, trying to imagine where Potter might be. He must be in the Great Hall with the others, organizing the resistance with the teachers. Yes. Surely he was. So, where could he lose Crabbe and Goyle? He had to get rid of them first. He had to trap them somewhere, or kill them, and hide the bodies. Then he could find Potter, and pray he won the war. That was the only option, really. Merlin knew he couldn’t keep going like he had been. He just couldn’t do it, no matter what Snape said. He couldn’t. “Potter - Potter knows about the Room of Hidden Things,” he continued. The Room was a dead end. No way would Potter go there. “Maybe he’ll stage in there.”</p><p>“Yeah, ‘course he will,” Goyle muttered, and Draco rolled his eyes inwardly. Fucking Room of Hidden things would be an awful place to stage. Good thing these two were so stupid, otherwise this might go terribly. </p><p>“Yeah,” he said, and took off towards the seventh floor with Crabbe and Goyle cackling behind him like a pair of overgrown toddlers anticipating a toffee. Listening to their gleeful greed, he suddenly remembered reaching out to Harry Potter in friendship as an arrogant eleven year old pureblood. How different things might have been if only he’d been just a bit kinder, or if he’d been raised just a bit differently. </p><p>But, no. If he’d been friends with Potter this whole time, he would already be dead and buried. </p><p>Maybe that would have been better, though. Better than this, at least.</p><p>He shook his head.</p><p><em> Die a solider, </em> he thought. <em> A soldier. </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry pelted around the final corner to the Room of Requirement, absolutely elated. The bloody diadem had been under his nose the whole time, just like the locket. Only someone as arrogant as Voldemort could have seen the horde of hidden objects in the room and somehow still have thought that <em> he </em> and only <em> he </em>had ever found it. What had he been thinking? That everything else just bloody appeared there? Crazy bastard - </p><p>He skidded to a halt, almost slamming right into Ron and Hermione where they were kissing furiously in the very center of the corridor.</p><p>“Bloody hell!” he gasped, reeling back and almost slipping in the puddle of water at their feet. “What are you two doing?” He looked down. “Are those <em> teeth? </em>OI!” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “OI! There’s a war going on here!!”</p><p>“Harry!” Hermione squeaked, still wrapped in Ron’s arms, and Harry put his hands on his hips and glared at her. </p><p>“What kind of face is that?” Ron asked, annoyed. “Like you wouldn’t be in Snape’s lap if he popped out.” He turned back to Hermione and kissed her again, with utter disregard for the distant explosions raining dust down on them from the ceiling. Harry scoffed.</p><p>“Excuse me!” he said loudly. “HORCRUXES? HELLO??”</p><p>“Ugh, FINE,” Ron burst out, letting Hermione go at last. “I suppose you’re the only one allowed to have a snog at an inappropriate moment!” </p><p>“Well, ANYWAY,” Harry said. “Where have you two been? And why are you all wet?”</p><p>“Chamber of Secrets!” Hermione answered, bright red and breathless. “We needed something to kill Horcruxes!”</p><p>She pointed to the fangs on the floor, and Harry looked down, suddenly recognizing them. Basilisk fangs. Wow. </p><p>“Are you fucking with me?” he asked, stunned. “How did you get down there?” </p><p>“Ron spoke Parseltongue!” Hermione squealed. “He was amazing!”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Going to the Room of Hidden Things was a huge mistake. </p><p>Harry and his friends appeared almost immediately outside the tapestry of Dancing Trolls on the seventh floor, and Draco watched, appalled, as Harry rustled Ginny Weasley and two other women out of the Room and closed the door. Ron and Hermione were there too, with a bunch of weird-looking yellowish objects. They looked sort of like… really big teeth.</p><p>“What the fuck are they doing?” Draco breathed. </p><p>“Who cares,” Crabbe muttered, breathing heavily under his disillusionment charm. “Not gonna be doin nothin in a minute.”</p><p>Goyle chuckled, and Draco watched with his heart hammering in his chest as Harry began pacing back and forth in front of the door with his eyes squeezed shut. Three repetitions, and then he opened his eyes, pulled open the door, and beckoned to the other two. </p><p>“Come on,” he said. “I saw it right before I hurt Draco. I saw it in here, I’m sure!” </p><p>The three Gryffindors closed the door behind them, and Draco glanced at the concealed thugs to his left and right. No getting rid of them, now. He’d have to try to lose them in the room. Maybe Potter and his friends would help him if he could prove he meant them no harm.</p><p>He stood up, looked to the left and right, and began to pace. </p><p><em> I need the place where everything is hidden, </em> he thought. <em> I need the place where everything is hidden. I need the place where everything is hidden. </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Holy hell,” Ron gasped.</p><p>“My God,” Hermione breathed. </p><p>“Yeah, I know!” Harry said. “Amazing! Come on, the diadem is in here, near a big sort of cushion thing with vertical stripes. I sat on it, and a stone bust almost killed me falling from above. It should still be - sort of - in the path. The Horcrux fell out with a bunch of other stuff, and I just tossed it back on top. Big pile of random rubbish. And some… wigs, I think.”</p><p>“Well let’s not be stupid about it,” Hermione said, and held out her wand. <em> “Accio diadem!” </em>Nothing at all happened. “Damn.”</p><p>“C’mon, you know Horcruxes don’t make it easy,” Harry said. “Let’s split up.”</p><p> </p><p>They each took off down a different aisle of teetering detritus, and within moments, Harry could not even hear the footsteps of the others. He sped through the city of forbidden things, turning this way and that, trying to remember which way he’d gone the night he’d cast <em> sectumsempra </em>on Draco. It was a blur… foggy with adrenaline and fear, but he vaguely remembered a suit of armor, and a big axe, and - </p><p>He froze, and backed up. There it was. The stone bust that had almost hit him, and the cushion, too. He ran forward, already reaching out to dig through the pile of pill-bottles and wigs, when a voice called out to him. </p><p>“Look out!”</p><p>He didn’t even hesitate. He just ducked and rolled to the side, and a wooden cabinet filled with crystal glasses exploded just where he’d been standing. </p><p>“The fuck you do that for?” said another voice as Harry leapt to his feet behind a marble statue of a Wizard in high-heeled boots and pressed his back against it.</p><p>“We aren’t supposed to KILL him, you idiot!” That was Draco, Harry was sure. Draco and… well. Draco was always with the same two people, wasn’t he? Or at least he had been, before all the insanity.</p><p>There was a meaty sort of thump, and a cry of pain, and Harry poked his head out from behind his cover to see Draco on the floor between Crabbe and Goyle, holding his stomach like he’d just been punched. </p><p>“I told you, Draco,” Crabbe growled, standing over him. “Warned you if you got in my way I’d teach you a lesson.” He kicked him in the ribs, and then turned his attention back towards Harry, who whipped back behind the statue. “Playing hide and seek, Potter? Come on out. We got you cornered, don’t we? Two on one.”</p><p>Harry raised his hand, magic sparkling at his fingertips, ready to strike, but another voice sounded from somewhere in the distance, and he hesitated. </p><p>“Harry? Are you talking to someone?” It was Ron. “Who is that?”</p><p>“Harry? Harry?” Goyle mimicked, sounding delighted. “Come on out, blood-traitor. I’ll have you too.” He giggled madly, and Harry moved to cast a shield charm, but Crabbe turned around at the sound of his first footfall.</p><p>
  <em> “CRUCIO!”  </em>
</p><p>Harry flinched back, but the curse went wide as Draco grabbed Crabbe’s leg.</p><p>“OI!” Crabbe bellowed, shaking Draco off and kicking him in the head. “You bloody <em> traitor. Diffi-” </em></p><p>Harry flung his arm out past the statue and blasted Crabbe into a teetering stack of desks, burying him instantly in a mound of splintered wood.</p><p>“POTTER!!” Crabble bellowed in rage and pain, coughing on the kicked up dust of decades. </p><p>“What was that?” came Hermione’s voice, and then Hermione herself appeared, pelting towards them. “HARRY!”</p><p>“MUDBLOOD!” Goyle howled, and turned his wand on her. <em> “AVADA-” </em></p><p><em> “Expelliarmus!” </em>Draco shrieked from the ground, blood pouring from his hairline, and Goyle’s wand flew out of his grip and wildly into the air. He turned on Draco, his expression murderous.</p><p>“I’ll kill you-” he growled, holding out his hands like he was planning on doing it the old fashioned way. “You <em> filthy-” </em></p><p>“Off!” Harry slashed his hand through the air and sent him flying backward.</p><p> </p><p>“Bloody hell!” Ron gasped, rounding the corner and leaping away as Goyle’s bulk tumbled past him. Then he caught sight of Crabbe’s arms flailing out of the broken desks, and Draco on the floor with Harry standing over him. “Harry - what the FUCK?”</p><p>Crabbe let out a howl of fury and there was a splintering sound, and Harry spun around to face him, shouting to the others.</p><p>“Get the diadem!” he said. “It’s right-”</p><p><em> “AVADA KEDAVRA!” </em> Crabbe screamed from his knees, pointing his wand directly at Draco. </p><p>“NO!” Harry barked, and a streak of electricity erupted from his palms, intercepting the killing curse and deflecting it into a stuffed troll. Ancient sawdust exploded into the air, Draco scrambled to his feet, and Harry stood in front of him like a shield.</p><p>“Ron! Hermione! Get the diadem!” He pointed at the spot and then held out both hands towards Crabbe. “Back off and I won’t kill you,” he said. </p><p>“Kill <em> me?” </em> Crabbe snarled, finally struggling to his feet. “You ain't even got a wand, Potter.”</p><p>“He’s too stupid to understand what you are,” Draco hissed, pointing his wand-hand at Crabbe from under Harry’s arm. “Knock him out and lets get the fuck out of here.”</p><p>“Harry, I can’t find it!” Hermione gasped, digging through the bottles and wigs and puffskein pelts, a great billow of dust rising around her. “I can’t find it!”</p><p>“Draco, help her!” Harry commanded, and Draco cursed and obeyed. </p><p>“What is it?” he asked, thrusting his hands into the mountain of stuff. “What’s a diadem?”</p><p>“A crown!” Hermione shouted back. “A circlet!” They dug through the detritus, tossing all manner of objects out of the way. Books and robes and bits of jewelry and silverware. “SHIT! It isn’t here!”</p><p>“KEEP LOOKING!” Harry demanded, electricity crackling around his hands as Crabbe approached with his wand outstretched. “I’m telling you, Crabbe,” he said. “I will turn you to fucking cinders.” </p><p>“Fuck you, Potter,” Crabbe growled, raising his wand.</p><p>“Fine,” Harry answered, and made a beckoning motion. Crabbe’s wand flew to his hand like it was led by a string, and he caught it, immolated it, and dropped the ashes on the ground. “I will kill you, Crabbe. Don’t think I won’t. Just turn around, and live another day.”</p><p>Crabbe snarled, and from behind him, there was a furious shout. </p><p>“MALFOY!” Goyle bawled, reappearing from around the corner, wand in hand, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. <em> “CRUCIO!”  </em></p><p>Harry deflected that curse too, right into a stack of books ten meters high, and Draco flinched as they burst apart, but Harry just blocked the flying books like he’d blocked the unforgivables. </p><p>“Merlin, Potter,” Draco muttered. “That is insane. Take Goyle’s, too.”</p><p>Hermione let out a screech of frustration and hurled an old pashmina over her shoulder, and there was a little metallic tinkling sound like a dropped fork, and Draco and Harry both whirled around to see a silver tiara bounce out of the fabric and roll away. </p><p>“Catch!” Goyle shouted, tossing his wand to his friend. “Do the fire thing, Crabbe! Kill ‘em all!”</p><p>Harry whipped back around.</p><p>“<em>IGNIS HOSTES HOSTIUM!” </em>Crabbe bellowed, and was knocked flat as an almighty jet of fire shot out of his wand and towards the ceiling.</p><p>“Oh SHIT!” Draco screamed, gazing up in horror at the cascade of orange and red arching over them as Harry dove for the diadem. “THAT’S FIENDFYRE! RUN!” </p><p>Ron rushed forward. “Aguamenti!” he cried over Harry’s head, but the jet of water boiled instantly into steam, and he shrieked and grabbed Harry’s ankle, jerking him back just as his fingers closed over the silver circlet. “HARRY! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?”</p><p>“I got it!” Harry gasped, leaping to his feet to see a torrent of flames flying over them. “WHOA!” </p><p>“RUN!”</p><p>They ran, and Draco pelted ahead of them, dragging Hermione by the sleeve. Within moments, the flames hit the ground and burst apart, spraying into the walls of the alleyway, and Harry cast a shield back behind them, but the flames chewed through it without even slowing. Looking over his shoulder in horror as he ran, he could almost swear that there were <em> creatures </em>in the fire. Dragons and serpents and predatory cats. Chimeras, and scorpions and great lizards with fangs much longer than could ever exist in nature. He sped up. </p><p>“RON! FASTER!”</p><p>The four of them careened around a corner towards the door, but even as they turned again, and the exit was <em> visible, </em> the flames appeared in front of them, blocking their path. Draco and Hermione saw it first and hit the brakes, and Ron and Harry crashed into them.</p><p>“Oh, god, we’re gonna die,” Draco moaned, yanking Hermione back from the inferno and into his arms. “We’re gonna DIE.” </p><p>Harry looked down at the crown in his hands. <em> Wit beyond - </em></p><p>“What do we do?” Hermione cried as the heat encircled them. “HARRY!”</p><p>Harry looked up from the diadem to the flames, and saw that there really were monsters. Hundreds, <em> thousands </em> of beasts, capering through the treasures around them with devilish relish, reveling in the destruction of centuries of hoarding, and four more live victims to consume. Draco was right. They were going to die.</p><p>“Harry!” Ron suddenly gasped, seizing his arm. “Are there brooms in here?”</p><p>Harry’s eyes widened. This was the cache of hidden things. There must be brooms. But would the room give them up? He looked at Ron, and they raised their hands, Harry’s empty and spread wide, and Ron’s clutching the wand he’d taken from Draco at the Manor. </p><p><em> “ACCIO BROOMS!” </em>they cried in unison. </p><p>And there were brooms. And a lot of them were on fire. </p><p>“FUCK<em> ME!” </em>Ron screamed as about thirty flew in at them from all directions. </p><p>“Get one that’s not on fire!” Harry shouted back.</p><p>“Yeah, I gathered that!” Ron answered, grabbing a Cleansweep that was only smoking and dragging Hermione away from Draco and on behind him. Harry spotted a battered Bluebottle that was blackened but not actively flaming, seized it, and turned to Draco. He seemed paralyzed, staring out at the fire, so Harry took hold of him by the collar and shook him. </p><p>“ON!” he shouted into Draco’s face, and Draco blinked and did as he was told.</p><p>“The door!” he choked out, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and hacking on the smoke that was starting to close in on them from the vaulted ceiling. “The door!!”</p><p>Harry kicked off without answering and shot up into the haze behind Ron and Hermione.</p><p>“Hermione!” he called, and she looked over her shoulder at him, covered with soot and drenched in sweat. </p><p>“What?” she cried back.</p><p>“FIENDFYRE KILLS HORCRUXES, RIGHT?” </p><p>“YES!” </p><p>“GOOD!” Harry hurled the tiara towards the flames, directly into the mouth of a monstrous bird with eyes the color of superheated steel. “WE ARE DONE!”</p><p>“COPY THAT, MATE!” Ron bellowed, and they soared towards the entrance, and over the hellscape below. </p><p>“HARRYYY!” Draco shrieked into his ear, and he glanced down to see an enormous, fanged, flaming maw open up just below their feet - the nightmare parody of a hungarian horntail - and he made a sudden hairpin turn, streaking still higher, centimeters from the ceiling where the heat was most murderous, and Draco screamed and clutched him tighter, and the beast's jaws snapped shut on the empty air with an explosion of sparks. “AAAAHHHHHHH!!!”</p><p>And then they were through, into the corridor, out of control, smashing into the far wall.</p><p> </p><p>They landed in a heap, and Draco flopped onto his back, coughing and panting, but Harry had no such luxury. Where were the others? He jumped up, spinning around for a glimpse of Ron and Hermione, but they were there too, gasping and covered in ash on the stone floor, and Harry collapsed to his knees.</p><p>“Jesus,” he said. “Fiendfyre is really… not good.” </p><p>“No,” Hermione answered breathlessly. “It certainly isn’t. Where - did - someone like <em> Crabbe </em> learn a spell like that?”</p><p>“Dark Lord,” Draco coughed out, and Ron glared over at him on his back.</p><p>“So,” he said. “Your friends are dead.”</p><p>“Friends,” Draco moaned at the ceiling. “What the fuck are <em> friends?” </em></p><p>Harry laughed once and then started coughing so violently he had to brace his hands on the floor. It took a while to control it. His mouth tasted <em> awful. </em> “Ech - god. Well, we saved you, didn’t we?” he finally hacked out, spitting black saliva onto the floor. “Now we’re even. Try not to die some other stupid way.”</p><p>“Haaa. Fuck you,” Draco gasped, and Harry wiped his sleeve over his face and got back to his feet. </p><p>“We gotta go.” He looked back to Ron and Hermione. “Snake next. C’mon.”</p><p>“Snake,” Ron repeated. “Right.” He clambered up and offered his hand to Hermione. “Gotta kill the snake.”</p><p>Draco laboriously levered himself up to his knees. “I can help,” he said. “I want to - fight with you.”</p><p>The trio looked down at him. “We’re doing something kinda specific,” Harry said. “Just- GET DOWN!” He flattened Draco to the ground as the door to the corridor burst open and a spray of red light shot through.</p><p>“Fuck, Potter,” Draco choked out as the spell sizzled into the wall above their heads. “I thought you were a <em> bottom.” </em></p><p>“Not funny! Stay down.” Harry shot a stunning spell back through the portal, and a Deatheater fell face first onto the stone floor, and Harry leapt up. Their time was obviously up. Deatheaters had penetrated Hogwarts. </p><p>“Get off!” Hermione shrieked, pushing Ron back from where he’d crushed her against the wall. “Ron! I need my wand arm! For fuck’s sake-”</p><p>“If you want to fight, now’s the time,” Harry said, dragging Draco to his feet. </p><p>“You blocked the killing curse,” Draco answered. “That’s supposed to be impossible.”</p><p>“Huh,” Harry said, holding out his hands as Percy and Fred tumbled through the door followed by a stream of masked Deatheaters. “Weird.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chimera</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>It was the explosion that separated them. Harry did not know what had happened to Draco, and right then, he did not care. All that mattered was that the world had ended, yet somehow the battle still raged around them.</p><p>“NO!” Ron shouted, thrashing in Hermione’s arms as she dragged him behind a tapestry and out of the crossfire. “NO! LET GO! I wanna <em> kill Deatheaters!”  </em></p><p>“Ron, no - no - LISTEN!” He struggled harder. “Ron! NO!” He broke away and she grabbed his shirt and shoved him into the wall as hard as she could manage. “RON! Listen to me! Listen! We are the only ones that can end it! We have to kill the snake! We HAVE TO!” She was crying now too, and held Ron still with all her weight as tears traced clean lines down her grimy, soot-streaked face. “We have to finish it - we have to - no one else knows what - to - <em> do-” </em>Finally, Ron stopped resisting and sagged against her, and Hermione pulled him into her arms, and though Harry could not hear it over the racket outside their little hiding place, he could see Ron’s shoulders start to shake with sobs.</p><p>Harry knew how he felt - the rage, the grief, the need to exact revenge - he felt it too, and pressed hard on his trigger point to control himself. Hermione was right. The Horcruxes mattered much more than revenge. The Horcruxes. Even if - even if - <em> Fred… </em> </p><p>They couldn’t lose sight of what they were supposed to be doing. They had to keep pushing forward. There was no other choice. There was no other way to make it stop.</p><p>“We will fight,” Harry said, resting one hand on Ron’s back even as he kept the other held out towards the tapestry concealing them. “Ron. We will fight. We will kill Deatheaters. Just - we have to kill the ones guarding Nagini, first. And then we can finish all of this, and no one else will -” his voice cracked. “Will get - hurt.”</p><p>Ron took a huge shuddering breath and lifted his head, and when he looked at Harry, his expression was purposeful, if a little dazed. “Right,” he said, wiping one shaking hand over his face. “Right, Harry. Of course. The snake. Where - where to?”</p><p>Harry glanced at Hermione, and she met his eyes. </p><p>“Go on,” she said tremulously. “Go on, Harry. You have to… Look inside Him. If you c-can.”</p><p>Harry could. He didn’t know why it was so easy - if it was his own fear and adrenaline making his mind pliable, or if it was Voldemort being so close, or something else - but whatever it was, it was almost instant. He just closed his eyes, steadied himself with one hand on the wall, and opened his mind. Immediately their dim little alcove was replaced by peeling wallpaper and boarded up windows, and lit by inconsistent bursts of distant but deadly light. And there was Draco’s father, cowering in one corner, assuring the Dark Lord that his son had not turned - had not befriended Harry Potter - <em> no, never - never, my Lord. Not Draco. Never.  </em></p><p>He opened his eyes. That was enough. </p><p>“He’s in the shrieking shack,” he said. </p><p>“What?” Hermione asked, agast. “He’s not even-”</p><p>“POTTER!” Two masked Deatheaters burst through the tapestry, and Harry rounded on them, raising his hands.</p><p>“FUCK OFF!” he screamed, and the pair of them froze mid-stride, turned on their heels, and hurtled face-first into the stone wall opposite them. With a sickening crunch, they fell to the ground, unconscious.</p><p>“Merlin, mate,” Ron said. “Dark Lord won’t know what hit him.”</p><p>“Let’s go,” Harry answered, and they took off towards the Entrance Hall. </p><p>They made good progress through the fracas, stunning and disarming as they went, and though they did take the time to fire a full body-bind at a Deatheater advancing on a cluster of singed Ravenclaw girls, they did not stop until their path was blocked by a veritable stampede of galloping desks.</p><p>“Whoa!” Ron gasped, throwing out his arms to keep the others from tumbling forward and getting trampled. “What the-”</p><p>“CHARGE!” Professor McGonagall shouted, running beside the bizarre herd with her wand held high. “DEFEND YOUR SCHOOL!” </p><p>“My goodness,” Hermione said as the flood of animated furniture passed, brought up by a single trotting footstool. “I suppose we should follow?” </p><p>Harry looked after them. Something like that would certainly clear a path.</p><p>“Yeah, let’s-” But then he heard something, and looked around. </p><p>“What?” Hermione asked.</p><p>“I just - thought I-” It came again, and Harry identified the sound. It was a scream, floating in through a broken window to their left. He dashed over to look, and for a moment he couldn’t see anyone at all, but then a glint of silver drew his eye. It was a shock of ice-blonde hair, catching a flash of light from the castle. </p><p>Draco’s hair, in the fist of a tall, broad-shouldered Deatheater.</p><p>“Oh, fuck.” </p><p>The scream came again, high and thin, but was cut off almost at once as the Deatheater, apparently tired of it, struck him across the face.</p><p>“Oh, no,” Hermione gasped from beside him. “Is that-?”</p><p>“Whoever it is, it’s not good,” Harry answered, and touched his bracelet. <em> Severus, </em> he thought. <em> Draco’s out in the grounds. Deatheater’s got him by the hair. </em></p><p>
  <em> [Which side?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Straight out from the entrance towards the forest. They’re almost to the trees. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [Are you alright?] </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yes. Fine. We found the diadem and destroyed it. Snake next. Save Draco. If that’s Rowle, kill him. Don’t be nice about it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> [I’m never nice] </em>
</p><p>Harry covered his cuff again and turned back to the others.</p><p>“Is he going?” Ron asked.</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry answered. “He’ll take care of it. We have to get to the shack.”</p><p>“Let’s get under the cloak!” Hermione said. “We’ll be faster! Less fighting!”</p><p>At first, Harry wanted to argue the point. He didn’t want <em> less </em> fighting. He wanted <em> more </em> fighting. He wanted revenge. He wanted to cause <em> carnage. </em>But Hermione was right, just like she always was. Snake first, then carnage. So they huddled together, invisible save for their feet sticking out under the bottom of the cloak, and pelted back into the chaos. </p><p>There were skirmishes all over the castle. Deatheaters dueling students and teachers and members of the Order, Peeves weilding fistfulls of Snargaluff Pods, portraits bellowing encouragement, and, out of the door of one bathroom, a furious tangle of limbs and twisting venomous tentacula. </p><p>They tried not to get sidetracked, but it was almost impossible. Everyone Harry had ever known or cared about was in this castle in mortal danger. He threw out <em> protegos </em>and stunning spells on all sides, separating Dean from certain death at the hands of Dolohov, and then Parvati from a masked Deatheater with a hunched, hulking posture. It was agony not to stop and fight, but they did their best to keep moving, all the way through the castle towards the entrance. But then, as they dashed down the marble staircase, Hermione stopped him.</p><p>“HARRY!” she shrieked, grabbing at him. “Greyback!” Harry looked over his shoulder at an awful sight: Greyback, huddled hideously over the bloody, feebly stirring body of Lavender Brown. “Get him off of her!!” </p><p>Greyback looked up at the voice, and Harry made a gesture like throwing a fistful of sand, and he hit the wall, hard. </p><p>“STAY!” Harry shouted, and instantly, the Werewolf’s arms sank into the stone wall behind him to the elbows. He snarled and thrashed ragefully, gnashing his teeth, but it was no good. He was trapped. </p><p>“Wow!” Hermione gasped. “What spell was that?”</p><p>“No idea,” Harry answered. “I have no idea what I am doing.”</p><p>Ron looked appraisingly at him. “Are you… feeling sick or anything?”</p><p>“No,” he said. “It’s gotta be lots more than that to make me sick. Don’t worry. C’mon.” </p><p>“Right.”</p><p>They made for the doors, but there was a sickening <em> crack, </em>and they turned back around to see a heavy crystal ball thump to the ground at the Greyback’s feet. He wasn’t struggling anymore, and there was a dent in his skull the size of a soup bowl. They looked up.</p><p>“I have more!” Professor Trelawney shrieked from the bannisters, brandishing her wand. “More for any who want them! HOGWARTS FOREVER!”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus did not find it difficult to locate Draco and his assailant. A scant ten meters into the trees he heard the crashing of feet through the underbrush, punctuated by Draco’s terrified voice. Severus, however, was not so loud in his movement through the dark forest, and he approached perfectly unnoticed. Not that Rowle was being particularly cautious.</p><p>“Please,” Draco said again. “Rowle - please, don’t do this - We’re in the middle of a siege-”</p><p>“Hush,” Rowle growled back, pinning him to a tree. “You aren’t in the middle of anything, Draco. Ain’t no one to step in now, either. Might be my only chance to give you what you deserve.” </p><p>“No - <em> please-” </em>Draco broke off with a squeak of terror as he was forced down onto his knees.</p><p>“Hush,” Rowle said again, holding Draco still with one hand and slipping his wand into his pocket to fumble with his belt. “If you’re nice and quiet I might not hurt you too bad. Might leave your face pretty, at least.” </p><p>Severus rolled his eyes at his incredible arrogance. One hand holding his victim still, and the other getting his cock out? What perfect timing for a mysterious attacker to appear out of the woods. </p><p>This wouldn’t even be a fight.</p><p>“Can I help you, Rowle?” Severus snarled, summoning a long, double-edged knife and catching it backhand out of the air. </p><p>“Snape!” Rowle exclaimed, whirling around, and Draco, released, scrambled back on his hands. “I was just - ” </p><p>Severus staked him to the tree with the blade. </p><p>“What did I tell you?” he hissed, bearing down on the handle as Rowle, his expression one of comical surprise, opened his mouth with a revolting gurgle. “Oh, did I miss your heart? How sloppy of me. What do you think, Draco?” Severus did not look at the boy as he asked, though he could see him out of the corner of his eye, white-faced, bloody, and smeared with soot. “Did I miss his heart? Or is it that he doesn’t have one?” Rowle’s large hands came up to grab at him and he twisted the dagger hard, leaning forward to speak into his ear. “I warned you to keep your hands off but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? What an unfortunate moral failing.” He jerked the handle downward, sneering in satisfaction as the blade tore through tissue and hit bone.</p><p>“Holy fuck,” Draco gasped. “Professor Snape - ”</p><p>“Quiet.” </p><p>Severus watched in disgust as a bubble of blood welled out of the corner of Rowle’s mouth and burst, and then yanked out the knife and let him crumple to the ground. There was a crackling sound as the breath wheezed out of him, and Severus, wiping a spatter of blood from his face, turned his attention to Draco. He seemed relatively unhurt, though his face was cut and his mouth was bloody. And he was rather blackened, and emanating a strong smell of smoke. </p><p>“What burned?” Severus asked.</p><p>“R-room of Hidden Things,” Draco stammered, shifting back, his eyes wide and blue in his dirty face. “I can’t believe you just… stabbed him like that.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t want to waste too much magic on a pig,” Severus answered evenly, vanishing the knife, and then the blood from his hands. “What happened in the room? Where’s your wand?”</p><p>Draco looked down at the body, and then up at the bloody furrow in the tree. “Uh. He took it. Disarmed me. From behind. And…there was… a fire. In the room. Crabbe and Goyle are dead, but H-Harry - Harry saved me.”</p><p>“Well,” Severus began. “He’s saved you again by alerting me to your predicament. I suppose that’s his new hobby.” He stooped down and rustled in Rowle’s pockets for Draco’s wand, and then offered it to him. “Whose is this? I thought Ron Weasley disarmed you.”</p><p>“He did. It’s my - my mother’s,” Draco answered, taking it from his hand. </p><p>“Very good. Go now.” </p><p>“But - ”</p><p>Severus grabbed the front of Draco’s robes with one fist. “Draco. Your guardian angel wants you to live, and so do I. RUN.”</p><p>“Yes, Sir,” Draco gasped, and when Severus thrust him away, he stumbled, took one more look at Rowle’s body, and took off into the forest. Severus watched him go, and then straightened his cloak and gave Rowle a little kick. </p><p>He was definitely dead. </p><p>
  <em> Fucking rapist.  </em>
</p><p>He retrieved Rowle’s wand, snapped it in half, and burned the pieces. He wasn’t sure how the Elder Wand changed hands, but he certainly wasn’t going to take any chances. Maybe if he could get into the castle he could transfer it to Harry, somehow. Keep it’s allegiance from the Dark Lord, at least. He just had to avoid being disarmed himself. Though, of course, no one had successfully disarmed him since he was sixteen, and he doubted anyone but the Dark Lord could manage it, now. </p><p>He touched his wand to his bracelet. </p><p>“All done,” he said. “He’s fine.” Then he turned around and saw Lucius Malfoy standing in the shadows, his face battered and his mouth agape. “Good evening, Lucius,” he said, pulling his sleeve back into place. “What can I do for you?”</p><p>“Oh,” Lucius began slowly. “The Dark Lord calls for you, Severus. I didn’t know you were… indisposed.”</p><p>“Not at all. Just taking out the trash.” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The Dark Lord had, indeed, called for him. And as Severus entered the Shrieking Shack, and saw Nagini suspended in her magical protection, he had to work hard to keep his expression neutral. There it was. The signal, clear as day. Nagini under lock and key, just like Albus told him. The last Horcrux. </p><p>
  <em> Second to last. </em>
</p><p>He smoothed the thought away and approached the Dark Lord by the single unobstructed window. He just had to get through this assignment and get to Harry, and then he could worry about what would come… after. About what he would say. </p><p>A brief tremor of weakness shivered through his mind at the thought, but there were no fractures, so he ignored it. </p><p>“You called, my Lord?” he asked. “I was patrolling the grounds.”</p><p>“So Lucius informed me,” Voldemort responded. He was twirling the Elder Wand casually in his fingers, and Severus felt a little tingle of unease. <em> Calm, casual, relaxed, nonchalant? He’s going to send you to do something horrific. </em></p><p>Well, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to do it, was he? This was quite possibly his last appearance as a loyal follower. After this, he would never have to bow his head again. </p><p>
  <em> You might never get this close again. </em>
</p><p>He glanced again at the Elder Wand, and then over at Nagini twisting in the starry sphere conjured around her. He knew that spell. It was <em> praesidium mundi, </em> and could not be broken by any mere severing charm. Luckily for him, of course, he was quite good at magic. He could break it. He could just… break it. Right now.</p><p>
  <em> Kill her. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> She’s right there. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> KILL HER. </em>
</p><p>“Their resistance is crumbling, my Lord,” he began. “Our victory is imminent.” </p><p>“I know it,” Voldemort hissed, and Severus wrenched his eyes from the serpent and towards the wand still occupying the Dark Lord’s idle hands. Which was of greater importance, the snake, or the wand? If he moved on Nagini and failed… No. He could not risk it. He just had to get out of this room with the loyalty of the Elder Wand intact. Get to Harry, and worry about Nagini later.</p><p>
  <em> But she’s RIGHT THERE. </em>
</p><p>“If you send me into the castle, I might do some good to hasten the end.”</p><p>“The end will come with or without your prowess on the battlefield, Severus.”</p><p>He followed the Dark Lord’s gaze out towards the castle. Even from afar he could see that the battle was raging. Harry was out there. He was out there with his friends, fighting. And he was probably fighting to get to this very spot, because Nagini was here. Maybe Severus <em> should </em> lay down his life in exchange for the snake to keep Harry from getting too close to the Dark Lord before it was necessary. </p><p>
  <em> Necessary. Necessary? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Kill the snake. That is necessary. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Remove an obstacle from Harry’s path. </em>
</p><p>“You are not required as a mere fighter,” the Dark Lord continued. “There is something else I need from you. A task that only you can perform.” </p><p>
  <em> Disarm him, kill the snake, flee to the castle. Find Harry and defend him. Now. Now. If you die, you die. Kill the snake! KILL HER.  </em>
</p><p>He hesitated in the face of the chaos in his mind.</p><p>It was emotion, not strategy. He wasn’t thinking clearly at all. </p><p>He could not risk dying <em> now. </em> It would transfer the wand - and more than that. If he died now he’d never see Harry again - and Harry - Harry didn’t <em> know - </em></p><p>A crack cleaved across his barriers, and then a second, and then a dozen, spider-webbing everywhere and releasing a froth of fear into the upper part of his mind. And with that fear came a clarity so unforgiving that it felt like a bucket of frigid water upended over his head.</p><p>He didn’t want to kill the snake to keep Harry safe. Harry could not be kept safe. </p><p>He wanted to kill the snake so Voldemort would kill <em> him. </em></p><p>
  <em> Are you such a coward that you’d show your belly to the Dark Lord just to keep from doing what must be done? Was Albus right about you, after all? So selfish, so greedy, so weak and pathetic, that you’d leave Harry now so that you never have to look into his eyes and tell him the truth? This is not the moment, and it can’t be the moment, Severus. Kill yourself later. Give Harry the best chance you can to finish this, and if he dies, then you can die. Once it’s over, you can pick your poison. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But not now.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You have to get to the castle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fucking focus. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Let me find the boy,” Severus said carefully, watching as Voldemort continued to play with his wand like a bored child. “Let me bring you Potter. I know I can find him, my Lord. Please.” <em> Get out of this room.  </em></p><p>“You sound just like Lucius,” the Dark Lord answered. “The two of you. So eager to join the battle. No one needs to <em> bring me </em> Potter. He will come.”</p><p>
  <em> Good God. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Focus. </em>
</p><p>“Aren’t you concerned, my Lord, that the boy will die at another’s hand?”</p><p>“My instructions to my Deatheaters were very clear. Kill his friends, his allies, his supporters. As many as possible. But do not harm the boy.”</p><p>“And what if he is too cowardly to come to you?” Severus asked. “If I bring him-”</p><p>“I have told you <em> no,” </em> Voldemort spat. “I do not need you as a mere <em> pageboy.” </em></p><p>
  <em> Fine. Just so he sends you away. A single moment alone to use the bracelet will be enough. A single step out the door. That’s all you need.  </em>
</p><p>Severus bowed his head. “As you say, my Lord. How may I best serve you?”</p><p>There was a silence in which all Severus could hear were the distant sounds of battle and Nagini’s low hiss. And then the Dark Lord spoke, and he looked back up.</p><p>“I have a problem, Severus.”</p><p>“A problem, my Lord?” </p><p>“Why doesn’t it work for me?” The Dark Lord held the Elder Wand aloft like a conductor’s baton, and a thrill of fresh fear flooded Severus’ veins along with a gush of adrenaline. <em> He knows. </em> “I was assured that this wand was the crowning possession for any master of magic.” </p><p>
  <em> He KNOWS.  </em>
</p><p>“My Lord?” Severus asked again, his tone expertly moderated to express nothing but devotion. <em> He knows, and he knows it's you, and you’re going to die. </em>“You have performed extraordinary magic with that wand.” </p><p>“No. I have performed my usual magic,” Voldemort continued. “I am extraordinary. But this wand? No. It has not revealed the marvels it has promised. And… I wonder…” He trailed off gazing out the window with an expression of serene contemplation.</p><p>
  <em> Deflect. One chance. </em>
</p><p>“I might offer some speculation if it pleases you, my Lord,” Severus began, and when the Dark Lord’s cold eyes turned to rest on him, gestured to his hand. “It is the Elder Wand, is it not? The Death Stick?” </p><p>A tiny sliver of surprise registered in the Dark Lord’s expression, but he quickly controlled it. “You are an intelligent man, Severus, as I always have said.”</p><p>Severus inclined his head minutely in acknowledgement. “My Lord is gracious. I do not deserve such praise. However, if you will permit me to speak…?” Voldemort nodded for him to continue, so Severus did. Hopefully Draco could run pretty fast. “You retrieved that wand from Albus Dumbeldore’s grave the night you visited me at school. And as I killed Albus on your behalf, you believe that the wand recognizes my own paltry mastery over yours.”</p><p>That time, the Dark Lord did not control his surprise quite as well. In fact, he looked rather shocked. “I… yes.”</p><p>“Well, my Lord. And do forgive me, as this is recent knowledge of mine. Very recent. But Albus retrieved that wand from Gellert Grindelwald in their historic duel, is that correct?” The Dark Lord nodded again, his eyes fixed fiercely on Severus’ face. “By disarm, not death.”</p><p>“That is correct. I killed Grindelwald in his cell. He was… pathetic.”</p><p>
  <em> Alright, Severus. Sell it. </em>
</p><p>“I’m sure it was well deserved.” He stepped still closer to stand by the Dark Lord’s side, looking out the window like he was absolutely secure in his information and had nothing to fear. Watching the flashes and explosions of sparks around Hogwarts, he wondered briefly how many had already died. Hopefully no one Harry was too fond of, but that was beyond expectation. “The night I killed Albus, I found him defenseless. He was critically weakened, and had already been disarmed. All he had left was his mouth, which he was using to great effect to confuse and mislead the one who’d overcome him.”</p><p>“Draco,” Voldemort hissed, and Severus gave a small nod.</p><p>“Just so,” he said. “If you are looking for the obstacle in your path, it might be that boy. I might bring him to you, if you like. He would come to me if I called for him, I am sure. He is still quite… captivated by me. You could disarm him, or kill him. As you desire.”</p><p>Voldemort’s eyes flashed. “I know what I may or may not do, Severus,” he spat. “But the lore states that the Elder Wand transfers through blood. Did Draco draw blood?”</p><p>
  <em> Not good enough, Severus. You are never leaving this room, and you are never seeing Harry again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Take the snake and do as much damage as you can.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Harry will know what you meant by it.  </em>
</p><p>“That, I do not know, my Lord,” Severus answered, the fingers of his wand-hand suddenly itching with the need to destroy. Destroy Nagini, destroy the Dark Lord, destroy his lieutenants and his supporters and fucking <em> everyone. </em> Leave a lake of blood behind. Blood and bones and <em> teeth - </em>his last love note to Harry.</p><p>His eyes flicked to the snake.</p><p>“I cannot leave anything to chance, Severus,” the Dark Lord continued, turning to face him fully. “Though I do regret it. You have served me very well, despite your failure to keep the boy out of the school.”</p><p>The hex that would break the magical sphere was on Severus’ tongue - his arm tensed to withdraw his wand - but right then, right at that moment, his cuff flared hot on his arm and he stopped. </p><p>Harry was calling him - Harry knew he was in danger - and that meant he had more time. If Harry was looking through Voldemort’s eyes right then, he would call and call and call until Severus accepted or the sun died. </p><p>“My Lord,” he said softly, his insides roiling with a heady mixture of terror and euphoria. His betrayal of the Carrows had not been a tenth as satisfying as he’d wanted it to be. This, though. This would be <em> transcendent. </em>“You know I live only to serve you.” </p><p>“I do.” The Dark Lord’s fingers caressed his wand with a lover’s touch, and Severus’ wrist heated again, almost burning him. <em> Patience, </em> he thought to Harry, wherever he was. <em> Patience, my love. Patience. </em> His barriers cracked again, splintering under the pressure, the tension, the <em> bursting </em> of his love. Fragmenting under the strain of his need to see Harry, to accept his call, to return to him, to help him, and protect him, and adore him, and carry him to safety. So, he let them weaken still further, leaking out images of Harry laughing, and smiling, and balancing a green chess piece on the top of a precarious tower. Eating biscuits on the hearth rug and making a mess. Turning his face up for a kiss. Summoning a little cactus and putting the Slytherin crest on the pot. <em> Oh, it’s for you! I never got you a Christmas present. </em></p><p>He looked into the Dark Lord’s eyes. </p><p>“It will be my great honor to die in your service, as I have lived,” he said, and again, heat around his wrist. “But before I do, there is one last gift I might offer you. Some information that might prove valuable. About the boy.” </p><p>“The boy?” the Dark Lord asked, raising his wand, and Severus closed his fingers around his own, waiting, his expression reverent. “Useful to the end. <em> Legilimens.” </em></p><p>He released his barriers all at once, unleashing a tidal wave of truth right into Voldemort's mind. Truth, and love, and remorse, and affection, and devotion, and <em> Harry Harry Harry Harry Harry Harry Harry. </em>Almost instantly, the Dark Lord let out a shriek of agony and wheeled back, covering his eyes like he’d had acid thrown into his face.</p><p><em>“Occidendum!” </em> Severus cried, shattering Nagini’s protective bubble and spilling her onto the filthy floor. She reared up, hissing, and he pointed his wand directly into her mouth. <em> “AVADA KEDAVRA!” </em>The jet of green light blasted her into the far wall, and Voldemort screamed again, and Severus’ bracelet scalded into life. </p><p>He seized it.</p><p><em> “YOU!” </em> Voldemort howled. <em> “YOU!” </em></p><p>“Yes, me,” Severus hissed, and then, as the Dark Lord raised his wand, pointing it right at his heart - <em> “CHIMERA!” </em></p><p>He vanished.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>THERE JK ROWLING I FUCKING FIXED IT FOR YOU</p><p> </p><p>p.s. good riddance Rowle see you in hell</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Traitors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Severus appeared squashed into a dark tunnel, and for a split second he was so overcome with relief that he nearly cried out. But then there was a flash of green light over Harry’s head beside him, visible through the crack between two boards, and he realized with a stab of horror that they were in the passage leading to the shrieking shack. The Dark Lord was still <em>feet from them, </em>and as he looked at Harry, and Harry looked at him, a howl of hysterical rage shattered the silence.</p><p>“Ron! Hermione!” Harry gasped, dragging Severus against his chest, tangling one hand into his robes, and seizing the back of his head with the other. “Take hold! Close your eyes!” He turned Severus’ face down towards the floor. “Close your eyes! Close your eyes!” Severus felt the others grab at him, and he reached blindly back for them, turning their faces down as Harry had done to him. </p><p>“Heads down,” he said, hoping that would be enough for whatever Harry was about to do. And then, pressed close against his body, he felt Harry’s ribs expand with a huge inhale, and - </p><p>He screamed. </p><p>No, it was more than a scream - it was a <em> thousand </em>screams. It was every howl of pain and fear that had ever sounded on earth, all at once. Every child wailing, every desperate widow, every shout of terror or grief, and every war cry. It was the most terrifying sound Severus had ever heard - and the magic that came out of him - it passed right through his body like a solar flare, and through his eyelids he saw an explosion of bright light, and then - it was almost like wind. Like being in the eye of a hurricane, maybe, or the very center of some other incredible violence. He buried his face into Harry’s neck, clutching frantically at his clothes, suddenly absolutely sure that Harry was going to shatter, or vanish, or disintegrate under the raw power exploding out of him. Ron and Hermione’s fingers dug into his back, their foreheads pressing against him, and he had just enough time to wonder if Harry was going to kill them all when the whipping wind suddenly fell, the roar of sound sheared off, and Harry’s body went limp in his arms. </p><p>The abrupt silence was so deep that it felt like being underwater, and in that deafening quiet, Severus opened his eyes, and lifted his head. </p><p>There was nothing around them. Absolutely nothing. The Shrieking Shack was gone - knocked flat - and he blinked once at the devastation, seized Ron and Hermione with one arm, and Harry with the other, and disapparated. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Draco hurtled into Hogsmeade, his lungs on fire. But he did not dare slow as he passed row upon row of boarded up shops and dark houses. Surely there was <em> someone. </em> Surely he could find someone to help him sound the alarm. Where could he go? The streets were empty - not even the Dementors appeared to sniff after his terror. Small bit of luck there, though, as he was absolutely certain he was incapable of producing a patronus right then. </p><p>Unless… unless all the Dementors were at the <em> school. </em></p><p>He took a corner at full tilt and started shouting at the top of his lungs. </p><p>“HELP! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!!” </p><p>No one answered his call, but there was a sound. Not really a bang or anything, more like a weird sort of popping, and he looked around to see a sphere of light appear at the edge of the town and expand like a bubble inflating.</p><p>“What the<em> f- ” </em></p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They appeared at the far edge of the grounds, the four of them, and Severus heaved Harry into his arms as he shoved Ron and Hermione away.</p><p>“I need Minerva!” he shouted. “NOW! GO!”</p><p>They stared at him, stunned, and then at Harry, unconscious in his arms, and turned to run. </p><p>Severus watched them draw their wands, and then looked up at the castle. It was still alight with the fire of battle, the windows flashing red and green, and smoke was pouring in great gouts from holes in the ceiling and walls. The sounds from inside were muffled, but terrible. Screams of pain and shouts of rage and fear interspersed with bangs like gunfire and the electric crackle of magic, powerfully cast. </p><p>Minerva might not even be alive. Or if she was, they might not make it to her - </p><p>He walled off his fear and ran with his burden towards a pool of deep shadow beside the entrance. And there, in as protected a spot he could find, he laid Harry down on the grass, and cast a flurry of protective charms over him. Then he crouched down with his wand at the ready, braced to kill anyone with a mask. He didn’t have long to wait, though. Hermione and Ron returned in what felt like moments with Minerva in tow, dragging her down the front steps by the sleeve.</p><p>“C’mon!” Ron was saying. “He’s right-”</p><p>“Here! I’m here!” Severus called, standing up and waving his arms, and McGonagall whirled to face him, pointing her wand between his eyes. “Minerva!” he gasped, holding out his hands. “Kill me later - I won’t fight - Just - please - help me, now. Please.”</p><p>Her eyes, sharp and penetrating as ever despite the smear of blood on her cheek, flicked from Harry, sprawled out on the grass, to Severus’ face, and to Ron and Hermione beside her. She did not seem terribly convinced, and for a moment Severus was quite sure he was about to be incapacitated. But then, echoing out over the grounds, there came a voice. A high, clear, awful voice, freezing every fighter in their tracks, as if the Dark Lord himself was standing beside them, close enough to touch. </p><p>
  <em> “ANYONE FOUND HARBORING THE TRAITORS SEVERUS SNAPE OR DRACO MALFOY WILL DIE ALONG WITH THEIR FAMILIES! BRING THEM TO ME AND YOU SHALL BE SPARED!” </em>
</p><p>Severus stayed perfectly still as the words died away, and after a moment, Minerva lowered her wand. “Well,” she sniffed. “I suppose that’s good enough for me. You’ll explain later, I take it.”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus said, lifting Harry back into his arms. “Hospital Wing, please.”</p><p>“The Hospital Wing is inaccessible,” Minerva answered. “The Deatheaters took it first. They want us to die in our own blood.” Her words were harsh, almost an accusation, but Severus did not respond to that. She could think whatever she wanted about him. What mattered was Harry. Harry needed treatment, and he needed it right now, and <em> what the fuck did she mean no Hospital Wing? </em></p><p>“But - ” he looked down at Harry’s face, tucked in against his chest, his glasses askew and his face white under the dirt and blood. “Minerva, he needs - restoratives. Medicine. We can’t just-”</p><p>“What about Slughorn’s office?” Hermione cut in, wringing her hands in agitation. “In the dungeons. He’d have that, wouldn’t he? Potions? And, I dunno. Other supplies?” She looked at Ron. “Would that be enough?”</p><p>“Put the cloak on,” Ron said, hurling it over Severus’ head. “We’ll cover you.”</p><p>Minerva seemed rather nonplussed by that show of faith, but she did not ask any questions. Instead, she held her wand en guarde, and led the way. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Draco came awake by degrees. First, pain. Then a little more pain. Then a wet, sticky sort of sensation on his face and down the back of his neck. Then space, and sound, and memory. He opened his eyes and looked around, somewhat surprised not to be dead. Where was he? A fucking… teashop? There were shards of glass and china all over him. </p><p>He moved to prop himself up on his hands, but fell immediately back to the ground as lights popped in his eyes, followed by an intense upswell of nausea. His left arm wouldn’t support his weight. Broken, maybe, or dislocated. He looked down to see, and his vision wavered. </p><p>It wasn’t just broken, it was practically backwards.</p><p>Not good.</p><p>“Fuck,” he breathed, and slowly began to shift his other limbs, searching for more stabs of pain. There was an awful tearing sensation under one of his shoulder blades, but other than that, he seemed fine. And then he tried to stand up, and he realized that he was, in fact, not fine. Something was severely wrong with him, and when he shifted around to look at what he’d been lying in, he saw why. There was a pool of blood underneath him the size of a serving platter.</p><p>“Ooh, no,” he murmured, and forced himself up onto his knees, and then, using his right arm to clutch at a fussy little table upended beside him, levered himself up to his feet. His head spun, but he did not allow himself to fall. Instead, he just put one foot in front of the other, all the way back out into the street. Broken glass crunched under his shoes. It was everywhere. Every window in Hogsmeade seemed to be shattered.</p><p>
  <em> Oh, that’s right. Hogsmeade. You’re… trying to find reinforcements. Right.  </em>
</p><p>He staggered over the cobblestones, looking for any sign of life, but there was nothing. There were no faces in the windows, and no lights, and he was just starting to wonder if the whole thing was futile when he saw a single lantern burning in the distance. It was just one, but that would have to be good enough. </p><p>He set off towards it as fast as he could manage, which wasn’t very fast, but he didn’t give up. He just kept going until he was close enough to see that the lantern was in the broken window of the Three Broomsticks, and seeing that, he slowed to a halt. </p><p>Of course it was the Three Broomsticks. Of course.</p><p>Well, his life was already totally over. May as well go for broke and beg for help from the woman he’d kept under the imperius curse for eight months. Why not? </p><p>He made it to the door, raised his good arm, and hammered on it.</p><p>“Rosmerta!” he called. “Hey! Rosmerta! ROSMERTA!” God, it hurt to shout. Something was wrong with his ribs. “Please - Rosmerta - please.”</p><p>“What?” came a sharp voice from within. “Who is that? I have a wand!”</p><p>“It’s me,” he said weakly. “Draco. Draco Malfoy.”</p><p>“Draco Malfoy?” The door opened, and Madame Rosmerta appeared with her arm raised to slap him. “How <em> DARE YOU SH- ” </em> Draco flinched back, but the blow never landed as a voice screeched over the silent street like the wail of a banshee. </p><p>
  <em> “ANYONE FOUND HARBORING THE TRAITORS SEVERUS SNAPE OR DRACO MALFOY WILL DIE ALONG WITH THEIR FAMILIES! BRING THEM TO ME AND YOU SHALL BE SPARED!” </em>
</p><p>Draco just looked back at her as the announcement faded, his eyes wide. </p><p>“Please,” he said, holding up his functional hand, wanting to show her that he meant no harm. That he was a traitor, like the Dark Lord said. A traitor. A turncoat. A defector. An ally of Harry, and Hogwarts, and the Order, and whoever else. Not a Deatheater. Just… a boy. “Rosmerta. Please.” Her eyes traveled over him, and the remaining color drained from her face as she seemed to fully absorb his appearance for the first time. </p><p>“What - what’s happened to you?” she asked in a shaking voice. “And - what broke all the windows?” </p><p>“Dunno,” Draco answered. He was starting to see some weird distortion in his vision. Like a tunnel. “But - the school is - under siege. They need help. Reinforcements. I need to - I’m trying to - sound the alarm.” His knees began to give way and he reached out for her lintel to steady himself. “I’m - hurt. Bad, I think.”</p><p>Rosmerta glanced once over his head at the silent street, and pulled him inside. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Lupin hit the wall so hard he saw stars. </p><p>“Sad day for your pretty <em> wife, </em> Werewolf,” Dolohov sneered, jabbing his wand up under his chin. <em> “Av-” </em></p><p>
  <em> “ANYONE FOUND HARBORING THE TRAITORS SEVERUS SNAPE OR DRACO MALFOY WILL DIE ALONG WITH THEIR FAMILIES!” </em>
</p><p>Dolohov broke off mid-curse and looked around, startled. “What?” he asked. “Snape? A tr-” Lupin kneed him in the stomach.</p><p>
  <em> “Petrificus Totalus!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “BRING THEM TO ME AND YOU SHALL BE SPARED!” </em>
</p><p>The thump of Dolohov’s body hitting the ground punctuated the announcement, and Remus kicked him in the face. </p><p>“Don’t talk about my <em> wife,” </em>he snarled, and Aberforth appeared from a hole in the wall.</p><p>“Excellent!” he boomed. “Finish him, boy! I saw him trying to kill a kid on the second floor. Looked about twelve. The <em> bastard. </em>”</p><p>“A kid, huh?” Lupin sneered, showing his teeth. “You deserve much worse, but I don’t have time to do it right. <em> Avada Kedavra.” </em> Dolohov’s eyes went blank, and he spat on the body. “Deatheater <em> scum.” </em> Then he turned back towards Aberforth, his expression softening. “Have you seen my Dora?” he asked. “My wife. She wasn’t supposed to be here at all. Have you seen her?”</p><p>“Your wife? What does she look like?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus swept everything off of Slughorn's desk and laid Harry onto it. He felt so small - so slight - so incredibly fragile as Severus let him down, that he had to fight the urge to just pick him back up again, as if keeping him close could heal him. But it couldn’t, of course. Harry needed medicine, and magic, not just love. </p><p>Love, after all, would not be enough. </p><p>The idea was sickening - <em> poisonous - </em> and he pushed it back as best he could. He could not fold, now. Not yet. Harry needed him, and he could not fold.</p><p> He turned to look at his three companions.</p><p>“Do you have wands?” he asked, and they nodded, <em> yes. </em> “We need to revive him. It might - it might hurt him… but - I think it’s the only way.”</p><p>“Rennervate?” Minerva asked. </p><p>“Yes,” Severus answered. “Multiple.” He looked back at Harry laying there, regretting it fiercely. It wasn’t going to feel good at all. But they couldn’t wait for him to wake up naturally. They had to wake him up now. “All of us.”</p><p>“Professor…” Hermione began, folding her hands together under her chin. “Four? That’s-”</p><p>“I know,” Severus interjected. “But I can’t administer restoratives if he’s unconscious. Not here. I’d need… the hospital.” Hermione nodded, looking scared, and Ron wrapped an arm around her, and all four of them turned their wands towards Harry’s limp body.</p><p>“On three,” Severus said, unable to keep the tremor of fear out of his voice. “One… two… three…”</p><p>
  <em> “RENNERVATE!!” </em>
</p><p>Harry sat bolt upright, clutching his heart, and Ron, Hermione, and Minerva were instantly knocked back against the walls. </p><p>“SEVERUS!” he shrieked, his eyes wide and blind. “SEVERUS! CHIMERA! CHIMERA!”  </p><p>“I’m here!” Severus answered, grabbing his shoulders. “Harry! I’m here! You called me! It’s over!” He squeezed hard, digging his fingers in, and Harry’s eyes found his face, though they did not seem terribly lucid. “It’s over,” he repeated, trying to keep his gaze. “Harry. It’s over. I’m here. I’m right here.”</p><p><em>“Chimera,” </em>Harry gasped, collapsing forward against Severus’ chest, and with his sudden weakness, the force holding the others to the wall vanished, dropping them to their knees. <em>“Chimera. Chimera, chimera-” </em>He pressed his face into Severus’ robes and started to shake. “Severus, please<em> - please - chimera - please - ”</em></p><p>
  <em> He thought you weren’t going to come. He thought you were trying to die.  </em>
</p><p><em> “Chimera - chimera - S-s-severus - p-please -” </em>He dissolved into tears.</p><p>“It’s alright,” Severus continued, holding him still closer, wrapping one arm around him to cup the back of his head and reaching his free hand out towards Minerva on the floor. “Restorative,” he said. “Minerva, a restorative!” </p><p>She just stared at the pair of them for a moment before staggering to her feet and over to Slughorn’s potions stores. </p><p>“Minerva!” Severus insisted. “Quickly! Before he-”</p><p>She whipped out her wand. <em> “Accio </em>restorative!” The doors of a cabinet to her left flew open, expelling a bottle towards her. “Here!” She pressed it into Severus’ outstretched hand. </p><p>“Harry,” Severus said, fighting hard to sound calm. It would do no good to upset him further. “We shocked you back awake but you aren’t going to stay awake if you don’t take some medicine.” He yanked the stopper out with his teeth and spat it onto the floor. “I have it here for you. Come on.”</p><p><em>“Severus,” </em>Harry moaned, his tears coming thick and fast, soaking into his clothes. “Severus, Severus, you were going to die, he was going to k-kill you, I could feel it<em>, </em>I could feel it, I knew he was going to do it - I could feel it - I <em>saw you</em> - but you <em>didn’t c-come</em>-”</p><p>“I know,” Severus answered. “Harry, I know. I’m sorry. But I’m here now. I’m right here. And now you need to take this.” He tried to coax Harry’s head back, but Harry refused, curling his fingers tight into Severus’ robes and pressing his face harder into his chest. </p><p>“No,” he whimpered. “No, no, no…”</p><p>Severus glanced over at the others watching them, and steeled himself. He knew exactly what to do, even if they weren’t going to like it. Well, Severus wasn’t going to let Harry slip into a coma just because he was <em> shy. </em>So, he sank his fingers into Harry’s charred, blood-matted hair, made a fist, and jerked his head back. </p><p>Hermione gasped, and Ron cursed, and Minerva said his name, but Severus paid them no mind. </p><p>“Harry,” he commanded. <em> “OPEN. YOUR. MOUTH.” </em>And, with a little gasp, Harry did open his mouth, and he swallowed the potion he was given without further struggle. “What a good boy,” Severus murmured, and tossed the empty bottle out of the way, extending his hand for another as he stroked his fingers against Harry’s scalp. “Minerva,” he said. “Put aside whatever you thought about that and give me two more.”</p><p>She scrambled for them, and Severus made Harry take those, too, and then a nerve tonic, a stabilizer, and two concentrated healing draughts. And that would either be enough, or it wouldn’t, and now they had to wait. </p><p>Slowly, carefully, he lowered Harry back down to the wood and held him there with a hand on his chest. But Harry didn’t try to fight, or move at all, really. He just looked up at him with glassy, far-away eyes. Like a doll. A beautiful, wounded, priceless doll.</p><p>“Severus…” he said, closing his fingers around Severus' wrist. His grip was very weak, and his skin was cold.</p><p>“Yes?” Severus asked, trying desperately to keep the crushing terror out of his voice.  “What is it?” He brushed Harry’s bangs back from his forehead, stilling the trembling of his fingers so Harry wouldn’t feel it.</p><p>“You showed him,” Harry murmured, his eyelids slipping closed. “You… showed him… your love.”</p><p>“Yes, I did.” </p><p>“It burned him…” Harry said, and his words were slurring, now. Blending together like he’d had too much to drink. “Hurt him real bad.”</p><p>“Yes. It hurt him. He screamed.”</p><p>“Mm. Serves him… right… he tried to…” His fingers went slack. </p><p>“Is he…?” Hermione whispered as Severus sagged over the desk, bracing both hands beside Harry’s body.</p><p>“We have to wait,” he answered. “I knew he wouldn’t stay. But maybe, with everything else, he’ll come back soon.” He leaned over Harry and kissed his forehead, mouthing silently against his skin.</p><p>
  <em> I love you. I love you. Come back to me. Harry, please- </em>
</p><p>“Severus,” Minerva began, and he spun around to face her.</p><p>“What?” he demanded, holding out his arms as if to shield Harry’s body from her eyes. “What? Accuse me, go on! Accuse me!”</p><p>She took a step back at the wrath in his voice, and Hermione moved over to her, her hands open in a supplicating gesture.</p><p>“Hey,” she said gently. “Professor McGonagall. Hey. This is really complicated, I know. But you have to trust us, ok? Professor Snape has been helping us for ages. Bringing us food, and healing us, and,” her eyes flicked back towards Severus, who had turned back towards Harry and knelt down beside the desk. “He brought Harry’s magic back when he lost it - and - you just have to trust us, alright?” </p><p>McGonagall frowned down at her, and turned her eyes back to Severus on his knees, pressing his face to one of Harry’s limp hands and kissing it, whispering against it with his eyes closed like a man in prayer. And then she looked over to Ron watching him. Ron Weasley had been angry the last time she’d seen them together. Enraged, shouting, cursing at Professor Snape and demanding answers. But he wasn’t doing any of that, now. Now he just looked sad, like Severus kissing Harry’s hand that way was something tragic, and lovely, instead of something bizarre and offensive.  </p><p>“But…”</p><p>“Listen,” Ron cut in, moving to stand beside Hermione, facing McGonagall with his arms crossed. “You’re just gonna have to deal with it like the rest of us, alright? You don’t have a choice.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“This is going to hurt,” Madam Rosmerta said. “Are you ready?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Draco answered. He was sitting backwards on one of Rosmerta’s armchairs, clutching the back with his uninjured arm. Rosmerta had discovered the source of his copious bleeding, which was a shard of glass the size of a kitchen knife wedged beneath his left scapula, and it needed to come out before she could heal it. “Go on. I can take it. I’m-” </p><p>Darkness. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“My Lord,” Bellatrix cooed, dabbing at the charred, peeling skin on Voldemort’s face. “My Lord, my Lord.” He slapped her hands away and stood.</p><p>“Enough!” he hissed, and looked down at the blackened skeleton that had been his last, great protection. Such destruction. Severus must have known what she was to have triggered that explosion - or - whatever it had been. Severus <em> must have known. </em> For even in death, Nagini might have served him. Her body might have been enough to act as vessel for that precious fragment of his soul. But like this? No. Nagini was nothing but dust and blackened bone now, and that part of him that had resided within her was gone. And to think, he might have been reduced to just the same if he’d been a lesser Wizard. </p><p>He had no idea what sort of magic Severus had triggered, or how he’d done it. It had been some sort of trap, certainly. Possibly a magical artifact or tool. For the sensation that had alerted him to danger had not been that of a Wizard casting a spell. It had not been an outward push of magical energy, or a targeted jet, or any of the other forms of attack with which Lord Voldemort was intimately familiar. It had been a pulling <em> in. </em>Like a vortex. Like the sea retreating before a tidal wave. </p><p>Well, unfortunately for Severus Snape, the Dark Lord’s magical sense was honed to a fine point, and he’d known immediately that whatever was behind the slats of the shack was, indeed, dangerous, and had taken steps to protect himself. So, while Nagini was scorched to nothing, he had been merely… burned.</p><p>Though how the magic had penetrated his most prodigious shields, he could not say.</p><p>No matter. Once Severus was dead, Voldemort would take possession of that weapon, whatever it was, and satisfy his curiosity. Once Severus was <em> dead. </em> Severus Snape. The <em> traitor. </em></p><p>He let out a snarl of rage and crushed Nagini’s skull into the dirt.</p><p>He would have Severus’ head for this. He would have his <em> spine </em> for it. </p><p>And the boy. The BOY! His <em> lover. </em></p><p>How could he have been so foolish - so blind? To believe Severus’ <em> lies. </em> And how could any Occlumens be so proficient - such an <em> artist </em> - to create those false memories from <em> scratch? </em> Dozens and dozens of memories, Potter’s body, riddled with bruises, Potter’s voice so accurately fabricated screaming and <em> begging? </em>How was it possible? If Severus ‘loved’ the boy - if his true thoughts burned so blindingly bright - how could he have ever heard Potter beg for mercy that way? Preposterous. </p><p>He paced back and forth, ignoring Bellatrix’ rapturous murmuring from beside him.</p><p>Perhaps the boy had been in on it from the start. Perhaps the memories were staged. Yes. That must be it. No one could be so skillful to call up such falsehood out of the ether. No one was that strong, and certainly not Severus Snape. Severus Snape was just a man.</p><p>No matter how Severus had done it. No matter that, for the time being, Severus had escaped him. He didn’t need the Elder Wand’s allegiance to kill Harry Potter. Of course not. What a mistake he’d made to put his faith in something external to himself, when he himself was enough. He only needed his own magic. His own power. That was all he’d ever needed. Even as a child, with no training and no wand in that god-forsaken orphanage, he’d been strong enough to punish his enemies. The ones that called him <em> strange. </em></p><p>Harry Potter was a boy, just like they had been. Harry Potter was weak and breakable, just like they had been, and Lord Voldemort would break him as surely as he’d broken the body of his pathetic father. And soon, too.</p><p>He was sure the boy would come to him soon. Potter was far too fragile to stand the weight of so many deaths laid on his shoulders, and certainly he wouldn’t be able to stand losing his <em> lover. </em> His devoted <em> servant, </em> Severus Snape, who had spied for him, and lied for him, and killed for him all this time. For his <em> love, </em>as if LOVE meant anything in war. Oh, no. The boy would pay, and his lover would pay, and they all would pay. Everyone. Every single soul that had ever helped Harry Potter or looked upon him with kindness was going to die. Tonight. Every last one of them.</p><p>Severus, though. </p><p>He would have all the answers out of him in the end. He would torture every last scrap of truth out of that man, and then tear his body open for the crows. The false sadist, worshiping his child-lover in the darkness. Severus, whose loyalty he’d thought unassailable. Severus, who had killed Albus Dumbledore, who’d been given the gift of Draco Malfoy - his reward, for such <em> excellent work. </em> Draco MALFOY. What of those memories? What of that evidence, laid bare so willingly before him? Draco on his knees, on his back, bleeding and weeping and yes - <em> begging. </em> Lies. All of it. <em> Lies. </em></p><p> He turned on Lucius, cringing in the shadows.</p><p>“Tell me, Lucius,” he demanded. “Did you know Severus Snape was betraying me? Was he protecting your filthy SON?”</p><p>“No, my Lord,” Lucius moaned, holding out his hands. “No! Snape? He never - I didn’t-”</p><p><em> “CRUCIO!” </em> Voldemort shrieked. “You dare lie to your Lord and Master? You must think me <em> blind! </em>How could any father stand by as his only son was violated again and again? You knew! You KNEW!”</p><p>“NO, <em> please-” </em> </p><p>
  <em> “CRUCIO!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa watched impassively from beside her sister as her husband screamed and twisted in the dust. She did not raise a hand or speak a word to interfere. She couldn’t, of course, but she didn’t really care to, either. Lucius had groomed Draco to take the Mark from birth, after all. Lucius had offered up their only child to the Dark Lord, and assured her time and time again that his status in the inner circle was unassailable, that Draco would be prized by his Master and lifted into the highest levels of prestige, that the risk was negligible at best. But his promises were empty, and his arrogance and thirst for advancement had led her son straight to his knees. Her only son, her precious boy, battered, abused, and terrified. </p><p>At least Draco’d had the good sense to go to Severus for help. Narcissa had known Severus Snape for twenty-four years, and he was not a <em> rapist, </em> no matter what sort of act he put on for the others. And now both their heads were on the chopping block. So, where had Draco gone? Surely he was smart enough to have fled the grounds, but… to where?</p><p> </p><p>Voldemort seized Lucius by the hair and pointed his wand into his face.</p><p><em> “Legilimens!” </em> he hissed, and as Lucius’ mind gave way, Voldemort’s red eyes widened, and then narrowed, and he cast him back to the ground. “Killed Rowle and told him to run, did he? Sent your <em> son </em> to SAFETY? We shall see! <em> CRUCIO!” </em></p><p> </p><p>Lucius shrieked again, and Narcissa turned away from his agony, thinking that if she lived, she would owe Severus a great debt of gratitude. Well, if they all lived, she supposed, which seemed unlikely. Particularly as Severus had not only been disobeying the direct order to brutalize her son, but had also, apparently, been a traitor for years. And was in love with Harry Potter.</p><p>Interesting.</p><p>Bellatrix moved to stand beside her, and Narcissa inclined her head in greeting. “Pathetic, isn’t he?” she asked coldly. </p><p>“Quite disgusting, yes,” Bellatrix agreed. “Do you regret it?”</p><p>“Marrying such a spineless, worthless worm? Of course I regret it, Bella. I should have listened to you from the beginning, rather than contaminate our family with such feeble stock. You always said the Malfoy name wasn’t good enough for me.” </p><p>“Pity you have such poor taste.”</p><p>“Well, he used to be a man.” Narcissa swept her long, blonde hair back from her face in imperious scorn. “Years ago, of course.”</p><p>“NARCISSA!” Voldemort called. </p><p>“Yes, my Lord?” she answered, going to him at once and taking a knee beside Lucius’ twitching arm. “How may I serve you?”</p><p>“Do you love this man?” he spat, and Narcissa spared her husband a single, cursory glance.</p><p>“How can I?” she asked. “He failed you.”</p><p>“Cissy,” Lucius gasped, his filthy, blood-smeared fingers reaching out for the hem of her skirt. Disgusted, she pulled it away before he could touch it, and looked back up at the Dark Lord.</p><p>“Kill him and release me to serve you, my Lord. I have always been loyal.” She bowed her head. “I am a Black.”</p><p>“And what of your sister, Andromeda? Was she not also a Black?”</p><p>“Perhaps you might kill her, too, if you have the time. Or Bella might take care of her as she took care of her daughter.”</p><p>Voldemort laughed, drawing his knuckles tenderly down her cheek before striking her viciously across the face. “Prove your loyalty to me, then.” He turned to Bellatrix. “A wand!”</p><p>“Take this one, dear sister,” Bella cackled, tossing it to the ground beside her. “It was our lovely niece's.”</p><p>The wand rolled in the dust, and Narcissa took it up, making her way carefully back to her feet. Her cheek was stinging, but she did not raise a hand to touch it. </p><p>“Kill him,” Voldemort said, pointing down at Lucius in the dirt. “If you wish so terribly to serve me.”</p><p>“Cissy - <em> please-” </em></p><p>Narcissa aimed Nymphadora’s wand directly at her husband, and looked into the Dark Lord’s eyes. She did not even flinch. And why should she? Lucius had thrown her son to the wolves, and she would never recover him if she was dead. She had to find Draco, and then they could run. Just find Draco, and run. And there was only one way to do that.</p><p><em> “Avada Kedavra,” </em>she said. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry shifted and murmured, and Severus leapt to his feet with a cry of relief. It had only been about twenty minutes, which was far faster than he’d expected. That must be a good sign. It must be.</p><p>“Harry?” Hermione asked, and Ron and Minerva joined her to cluster close around the desk. “Harry?”</p><p>“No,” Severus said, inserting himself and holding them back as best he could. “Give him some space. Give him some space - he might - panic - if he - ” He broke off abruptly, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth as Harry’s eyes opened, flickered closed, and opened again, and he made a small noise that sounded like a question. Severus forced down the sob he could feel lodged in his chest. “Welcome back,” he said slowly. “Can you hear me?”</p><p>“Hey,” Harry murmured, struggling to focus on him. “What - happened?”</p><p>“You exploded the Shrieking Shack,” Ron offered, and Harry’s eyes jumped to him, and then to Hermione, and then Professor McGonagall, and he flinched back so violently that he almost pitched off the far side of the desk. </p><p>“No,” Severus said, grabbing him and pulling him back. “Harry, no. Stay still.”</p><p>“The snake!” he gasped, struggling madly. “The snake!”</p><p>“Harry,” Severus said again, and when Harry tried to jerk away, seized the front of his shirt and forced him back to the wood.<em> “HARRY, NO!” </em></p><p>Harry yelped and went still. </p><p>“Severus!” Minerva gasped. “Good lord-”</p><p>“Sorry,” Harry whispered, his eyes wide and his palms pressed flat against the desk. “I’m sorry. What happened? What - did I - do?”</p><p>“You saved me,” Severus answered. “And I took care of Nagini. Hit her right in the mouth with the killing curse. She’s dead.” </p><p>Harry closed his eyes with a little moan of relief. “Oh, god, did I hurt anyone?”</p><p>Severus looked over to the other three. “I don’t know,” he said. “You - caused an… event.”</p><p>“Explosion?” Harry asked. “Ron?”</p><p>“I dunno, Mate,” Ron answered. “You told us to close our eyes, so we did. But… yeah. The shack is gone. Just… sort of… flat.”</p><p>“Potter,” Minerva broke in. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Oh, hi Professor,” Harry answered. “Not… too good. Did I faint?”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus said. “You were quite unconscious. Do you need water?”</p><p>“Yeah. Maybe… a little bit.”</p><p>Severus helped him sit up, and Hermione found a clean bottle and filled it with water. </p><p>“Here,” she said, holding it out, and Harry gave her a wan smile.</p><p>“Hey, Hermione.”</p><p>“Hi,” she answered, her lips trembling. </p><p>“Sorry for scaring you,” he said. “Didn’t mean to - explode anything.”</p><p>She chuckled weakly as he drained the bottle. “It was quite a piece of magic,” she said. “I’m really jealous.” Harry handed the bottle back to her and looked to Severus. </p><p>“Am I bleeding?” he asked.</p><p>“Yes,” Severus answered. “But not from the magic.”</p><p>“Good. Can I-”</p><p>
  <em> “YOU HAVE FOUGHT VALIANTLY-” </em>
</p><p>Harry shrieked and jumped to his feet, but Severus grabbed him before he could take a single step and pulled him in tight against his chest as Voldemort’s voice filled the castle. </p><p>
  <em> “LORD VOLDEMORT KNOWS HOW TO VALUE BRAVERY. YOU HAVE SUSTAINED HEAVY LOSSES. IF YOU CONTINUE TO RESIST ME, YOU WILL ALL DIE, ONE BY ONE. I DO NOT WISH THIS TO HAPPEN. EVERY DROP OF MAGICAL BLOOD SPILLED IS A LOSS AND A WASTE.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Draco returned to consciousness like he’d been dunked into icy water, and he sat up so suddenly that he nearly startled the healing draught out of Rosmerta’s hand. </p><p>
  <em> “LORD VOLDEMORT IS MERCIFUL. I COMMAND MY FORCES TO RETREAT IMMEDIATELY. YOU HAVE ONE HOUR. DISPOSE OF YOUR DEAD WITH DIGNITY. TREAT YOUR INJURED.” </em>
</p><p>“Rosmerta,” Draco gasped, struggling to his feet. His broken arm felt a little better, if not fully mended, though he was still quite dizzy. “We’ve got to fire-call… <em> anyone. </em> Anyone that can fight -  anyone that’s willing to help - call <em> anyone-” </em></p><p>“I did,” she said. “While you were healing. I sent for-”</p><p>
  <em> “I SPEAK NOW, HARRY POTTER, DIRECTLY TO YOU.” </em>
</p><p>“Oh, Merlin,” Draco moaned, clutching his head. “No.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “YOU HAVE PERMITTED YOUR FRIENDS TO DIE FOR YOU RATHER THAN FACE ME YOURSELF. I SHALL WAIT ONE HOUR IN THE FORBIDDEN FOREST. IF, AT THE END OF THAT HOUR, YOU HAVE NOT GIVEN YOURSELF UP, I WILL ENTER THE FRAY MYSELF, AND I SHALL FIND YOU, AND PUNISH YOU, AND PUNISH EVERY LAST MAN, WOMAN, AND CHILD THAT HAS EVER AIDED YOU. AND YOUR LOVER, HARRY POTTER. YOUR LOVER I WILL TORTURE INTO MADNESS BEFORE YOUR VERY EYES.” </em>
</p><p>Severus could feel Harry’s moan of terror as a vibration against his chest, and he held him tighter, hunching his shoulders forward as if he might somehow shelter him from the terrible threat with his body alone, the way Harry had protected him from the destruction in the shrieking shack. As if he might somehow be able to block it out - prevent him from hearing it -</p><p>
  <em> “I WILL SKIN HIM IN SHREDS. BREAK HIS BONES. BLIND HIM AND CUT OUT HIS TONGUE. AND YOU WILL WATCH, HARRY POTTER. I HAVE HEARD YOU BEG BEFORE, AND I WILL HEAR IT AGAIN IF YOU DO NOT SUBMIT TO ME. YOU HAVE ONE HOUR.” </em>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Greatest Gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The silence was absolute as the echoes bled away, leaving Harry clutched in Severus’ arms, Ron and Hermione flung together in horror, and Minerva McGonagall standing like a statue, alone. </p><p>“Don’t listen to him,” Ron said, his hands fisted in the back of Hermione’s robes. “Don’t listen, Harry. We’re gonna fight, alright? Just like we always do. And he’ll get his hands on Snape over our dead bodies, yeah?”</p><p>“Yes - it - It’ll be alright,” Hermione added, her eyes wild. “Let’s just - just go to the great hall - and see who still can - f-fight.”</p><p>Severus buried his face in Harry’s dirty hair. He smelled like soot, and sweat, and blood, and ozone, but beneath all that it was still Harry, and that was all he wanted. “Harry,” he murmured, curling one hand around the back of his neck, feeling his skin under the grit. “He’s scared. You know he is. He’s terrified of you. The things you’ve done-”</p><p>“I have to go,” Harry said, his voice shaking, and Severus opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione beat him to it.</p><p>“No!” she gasped. “Harry, come on, he’s just trying to trick you! It’s a lie!”</p><p>“Yeah, you can’t believe <em> him,” </em>Ron added. “He’ll kill us all even if you do give yourself up, and you know it!”</p><p>“Severus,” Harry whispered. “He can’t have you. He <em> can’t.” </em> It was barely a breath, but Severus heard it anyway, the way he always heard Harry’s whispers. Whispers shared in the close darkness of the dungeons - in the forbidden cocoon they had woven together - whispers like <em> I love you, </em> and <em> don’t leave me, </em> and <em> can I stay?  </em></p><p>“No,” Severus answered. “He can’t have me.” </p><p>There was a cough, and he glanced up to see Minerva staring at him like a hawk. As if <em> she </em> had any idea what was going on. As if <em> she </em> had any right to intrude on the final moments of the universe.</p><p>“His <em> lover?” </em> Minerva asked, and Severus sneered right back at her, holding Harry tighter against his chest.</p><p>“God forbid someone <em>love him,” </em>he spat. “What a <em>sin.”</em> He turned his back on her, resolving to ignore everyone on earth for the foreseeable future. There was only Harry, now. There had only ever been Harry, really, since the day he was born. Just Harry, and the things Severus could and could not give to him. Just Harry in his arms right now, bloody, and dirty, and hurt, and tired, with hundreds of lives on his shoulders. Just Harry.</p><p>And the things Severus could, and could not give to him. </p><p>He wanted to speak. He really did. He wanted to say something about Harry’s incredible magic, about his power, or the unbelievable feats he’d already accomplished that night. He wanted to say something - <em> anything </em> - that could fix it, that could make it better, or even just a bit easier, but Harry’s green eyes turned up towards him, and the words died in his throat. </p><p>Those <em> eyes. </em> What could he say? Everything he could think of was a lie. Comfort and deflection and <em> lies.  </em></p><p>There was only one thing that could be said, really.</p><p>
  <em> Harry, there is something I need to tell you. </em>
</p><p>That was all. That was all he had to say, but he couldn’t get it out. It was like the words were stuck on something. Lodged in his chest like a ball of barbed wire, holding him in silence. </p><p>But then a painfully familiar expression flickered across Harry’s face. It was just the sort of expression he’d worn the night Severus had tried to share his pleasure but had instead foolishly revealed his whole heart and soul. The night Harry had clung to him, weeping and shaking, and then, calmed, had looked into his eyes and said the words:<em> ‘I want you to tell me why.’ </em> That was just how he looked now, and Severus knew that his silence had been more than enough. This was Harry, after all. Harry Potter, intuitor of forbidden knowledge. Fearless Harry, reaper of terrible truths. The silence had been enough, and he was about to say something awful, just as he had that night on the sofa, with his wine held in both hands. <em> ‘Why is there so much pain inside you? You said it was love, but that was grief.’ </em> </p><p>“I think you should tell me,” Harry said, and his hands tightened on Severus’ chest. “Whatever you were going to say in Ravenclaw Tower, it’s time now. You should tell me now.”</p><p>Yes, it was time. It was the last possible moment.</p><p>“I know,” Severus said, and there was a sudden and very strong urge inside him to cringe away. To retreat - to <em> flee </em> from Harry’s arms and from the terrible understanding in his eyes. But Severus did not retreat, he did not flee, and he knew right then that he was, in fact, not a coward. A monster, maybe. But not a coward. “We need the Pensieve.”</p><p>“What?” Ron asked.</p><p>“The Pensieve?” Minerva added, but Severus did not turn to look at either of them, and he did not turn to see Hermione with her hands over her mouth. </p><p>“Albus wanted me to show something to you,” he continued. “He told me to wait until… until the Dark Lord was - afraid. He made me promise. He made me swear. To wait.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Ron demanded. “Show him what?”</p><p>“But - Albus? Severus, what madness is this?” Minerva asked, but Severus still did not look away from Harry’s dirty face. And so, he could see it very clearly as Harry crushed his fear back down inside himself and stomped it into submission, and he watched, helpless, as Harry’s lips turned down minutely at the corners, and he turned towards the others.</p><p>“Go to the wounded,” Harry said, pulling out of Severus’ arms, and though Severus did not want to let him go, he did. He knew why Harry was withdrawing. Harry needed to seem like a man, now. A commander. The leader of their forces, whether he could shoulder the burden or not. “Ron, Hermione, Professor McGonagall. You heard Voldemort. There’s only an hour to do as much good as we can. Go to the wounded, and I’ll follow. As soon as I’m done, I’ll come.”</p><p>“Harry, no,” Hermione said<em>. </em> “We shouldn’t separate!”</p><p>“Yeah, mate. We’re with you to the end,” Ron added. “If you’re going up to Dumbledore’s office, we’re coming with you.”</p><p>“No,” Harry said, and Severus saw him transform still further. His shoulders squared, and his chin lifted, and he didn’t just <em> seem </em> like a man, he was one. And in seeing it, Severus felt a strange warm, sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Some mad mixture of pride and grief, at seeing the man Harry would have become. “No,” Harry repeated. “It’ll just be a moment. Half an hour at most.” He looked to Severus for confirmation, and Severus just nodded. “It might make all the difference.”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus said, and, feeling like the worst kind of traitor, turned his head to meet Minerva’s eyes. He didn’t know what it was in his expression, or body language, or in the way Harry was standing so tall, but after a moment she nodded and drew herself up, turned to Ron and Hermione, and spoke to them as their Head of House.</p><p>“You heard Potter,” she said in a clipped, commanding tone. “Leave them to the Pensieve. If Albus left something for him, it must be important. Now. We can take the rest of the medicinal potions with us to the injured. With the Hospital Wing out of reach we’ve been staging in the Great Hall, but if the Deatheaters really have retreated, we might be able to collect some supplies from there as well.” She paused, letting her eyes sweep over Harry, and then over Severus beside him. “The wounded are numerous. They need all the aid we can provide before battle rejoins. Come.” She waved her wand, summoning the restoratives and healing draughts and skele-gro into a crate and floating it before her, and Ron and Hermione turned obediently to follow. </p><p>But then, just at the doorway, Hermione broke away from the others and dashed back towards Harry, throwing her arms around him in a desperate embrace. </p><p>“Whatever he says,” she whispered into his ear. “Whatever it is - we want to fight, alright? There’s no reason for you to die to save me, or Ron, or anyone else. You deserve to live, too. Harry - <em> you deserve to live.” </em></p><p>Severus was not just a traitor. He was a <em> Judas. </em> </p><p>“C’mon,” Ron said, pulling her away. “Trust him, Hermione. He says he’s coming, and he will, ok?” He looked to Harry with a fierce scowl, daring him to lie. “Right?” And then he looked to Severus, daring <em> him </em> to lie. <em> “Right?” </em></p><p>“Yeah, of course,” Harry said. “‘Course I will. Go, now. I’ll be right there.”</p><p>“To the wounded, as soon as we finish,” Severus agreed.</p><p>Ron just held his eyes, and though he did not speak again, Severus understood him perfectly well. <em> If you hurt Harry, I will kill you. </em></p><p>An honorable sentiment, Severus thought, and as he looked back into the vivid blue eyes of Harry’s oldest friend, he hoped Ron could understand him, too. <em> If Harry dies, I’ll hand you the axe. </em></p><p> </p><p>As the door clicked shut behind them, Harry looked at the handle for a long moment, and then turned back towards Severus. </p><p>“An hour is not a lot of time,” he said, and raised his hand, summoning Slughorn’s tin of floo powder. He held it out, his expression closed, and calm. “After you, Headmaster.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Every single portrait was vacant when Harry and Severus stepped out of the fire and into his office. No Albus, no Phineas, no Dippet, no one. Just silence. But that was for the best, Severus thought. It would be better for this to be private. This last, great betrayal, that would surely cement his place in the deepest circle of hell. No matter any good deed he had ever done, or all that he had meant to do. This was a stone in the scale. </p><p>Harry’s face was very pale under the grime, and at every glance Severus expected to see blood trickling out of his eyes, or ears, or nose, but no such marker of fatal magical overexposure appeared. Even with all he’d done, he was still standing, still conscious, and still alive. </p><p>
  <em> For an hour. </em>
</p><p>He considered trying to stamp out the thought, but there was no reason for that at this late stage. He could let every awful feeling he’d ever had burn him up from the inside for the rest of his life, now. However long that was. There would be no more hiding, or deflection, or equivocation. And certainly no more lies.</p><p>“Show me,” Harry said, swaying a little on his feet, and Severus could see that he had returned to his usual self - A commander no longer, now that there was no one else to see him. Back to normal.</p><p><em> I love you, </em> Severus thought. <em> Oh god, I love you. </em></p><p>“Severus,” Harry continued, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t feel good. Just show me whatever it is. It’s the thing that - made you sad - and - made you say all that stuff. I know it is. Just - just show it to me. Please.”</p><p>“I will,” Severus answered. “Sit.” He pressed Harry back into one of the chairs and moved to the glass cabinet that held the Pensieve, withdrawing it carefully and placing it on the desk. Then he touched his wand to his temple, withdrew two silvery strands of memory, and dropped them into the basin. He watched them swirl innocently there, spreading like mist, and then returned to Harry’s side, and sat. There he was. His lover. His soulmate. His precious Potter.</p><p>“Harry,” he began, and reached for his hands, but they withdrew.</p><p>“Show me first,” Harry said. “Apologize after.”</p><p>“I - As you wish,” Severus answered, swallowing down the lump in his throat. What had he meant to say, anyway? Bullshit, probably. Best not to try. “I thought I might - come in with you. To… stand by your side. If you’ll allow it.”</p><p>“Fine,” Harry said, and they turned towards the Pensieve, and together, entered Severus’ last, great secret.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry looked around. They were still in the Headmaster’s office, but now he saw that Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, and Severus’ memory of himself was sitting in the very chair Harry had just vacated. He looked over to the real Severus standing beside him, but Severus did not meet his eyes, and he did not speak. He just reached out for Harry’s hand, and interlaced their fingers.</p><p> </p><p><em> “What are you doing with Potter in these meetings you’re having with him?” </em> the memory Severus asked, sounding agitated. <em> “After the last one he was - upset.” </em></p><p><em> “Was he?” </em> Albus asked serenely. <em> “In what way?” </em></p><p><em> “He wanted to know why - he asked me - what made me-” </em> Severus broke off, and looked down at his hands. <em> “He wanted to know if it hurt to be marked.” </em></p><p><em> “Did he?” </em> Albus asked, twisting a glass trinket in his hands. It caught the light - a sparkling, transparent pyramid. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, is that…?” Harry asked, but Severus shushed him gently. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Yes, he did.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “And what did you say?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I told him the truth.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “How refreshing.” </em>
</p><p><em> “Albus,” </em> Severus said again, his voice impatient. <em> “What have you been showing him? If you trust me enough to leave him with me, surely you must trust me enough for this.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “I will not tell you, Severus, and it has nothing to do with trust. It is between myself and the boy. I called you here for your report, and now you have given it to me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I need to know.” </em>
</p><p><em> “You do not need to know.” </em> Albus turned to look at his phoenix, a small frown aging his lined face still further. <em> “But… there is something that perhaps you should know, now. Now that Draco has begun trying his hand at me.” </em> </p><p> </p><p>Harry stood very still as the memory Severus looked between Albus and the bird, and the real Severus held his hand tighter, and Albus continued to speak.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Listen closely, Severus,” </em> the old man said. <em> “There will come a time - after my death - Do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to fear for the life of his snake.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “For Nagini?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forth to do his bidding, but keeps it safe beside him under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Tell him what?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Severus’ hand was sweating. Harry could feel it. And that, more than anything else, made him feel afraid. But it was a distant sort of fear - almost like it belonged to someone else. Like he was watching a film about someone else’s life, and it was reaching a tragic climax.</p><p>It was kind of interesting, really. What horrible thing was Dumbledore about to say? After every other horrible thing, what could possibly be so terrible that Severus showed him this way, instead of just saying it himself?</p><p> </p><p>Albus closed his eyes. <em> “Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort’s soul was blasted apart from the whole, and it latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsing building.” </em> He paused, folding his hands, and Harry could see that his right was blackened and dead-looking. <em> “Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort’s mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.” </em></p><p><em> “You never meant him to survive,” </em> Severus said, and his voice was as flat as his expression.</p><p><em> “No,” </em> Albus answered<em>. “He cannot survive. In fact, he must not. And it is critical that Voldemort himself do the deed. That is absolutely essential.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Harry felt as though he was watching the scene from across a vast, frozen tundra, and a little sparkle of light appeared in the darkness at the edges of his vision. He knew he should probably use his trigger point, but found he couldn’t move. He was frozen in place, at the mercy of his body and brain. But then Severus’ arm came around him, and he took up Harry’s left hand and pressed his thumb into his wrist, and the sparkling disappeared. Harry wanted to say thank you, but the two men were still talking, and he focused hard to understand the words as Severus released the point and then pressed into it again. </p><p><em> One. Two. Three. Four. Five, </em>Harry thought.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Don’t be shocked, Severus.” </em>
</p><p><em> “You -” </em> Severus’ controlled expression cracked open into a grimace of disgust. <em> “You allowed me to become - attached - to him, and now you tell me that we have been protecting him so that he might die at the right moment? After everything, have we been raising him like a pig for slaughter?” </em></p><p>
  <em> “It is war, Severus, is it not?” </em>
</p><p>Severus stood up. <em> “And just what does he owe any of us?” </em> he demanded. <em> “Why should I try to put him through this?” </em></p><p>Albus steepled his fingers, his reply careful, and deliberate. <em> “I think… that it is not about owing.” </em></p><p><em> “Isn’t it?” </em> Severus spat. <em> “Does anyone have greater right to life than he?” </em></p><p> </p><p>Harry watched as Albus’ expression flickered from confusion to a pitying sort of understanding, and he could tell that the memory Severus had seen that very same thing in the Headmaster’s eyes, as when Albus tried to speak, he did not allow it. </p><p> </p><p><em> “Don’t ask me!” </em> he snarled, pointing his finger straight down onto Albus’ desk and leaning over it to glare fiercely into his eyes. <em> “Don’t you fucking ask me anything.” </em></p><p> </p><p>The scene dissolved.</p><p> </p><p>“That was that night,” Harry said slowly, staring blankly into the white fog that descended around them. He remembered it vividly. Severus had been called before the Dark Lord, and Harry had been beside himself with anxiety, and demanded to be brought down to the dungeons. He’d been up against the bookcases when the Headmaster summoned them, and during that meeting Severus had asked him to create something to demonstrate his wandless magic, and Harry had made a little glass pyramid. Then he’d been sent away, and went to see his friends, and after a while, Severus had called him back down to his rooms. And after, laying spent and naked in Severus’ arms, Harry had wondered what had happened to him that could have made him change his mind so abruptly. What on earth could have transformed such a forceful <em> no, </em> into <em>I want you now, </em> in a single evening? He'd tried to ask, too, but had been rebuffed. Well, he knew now, didn’t he? Severus had discovered that Harry would never grow old enough to be an appropriate lover, and instead of turning him away, he’d opened his arms. </p><p>Severus had called him down, and proceeded to love him without reservation.</p><p>“That was… that night,” he said again, and though it was not a question, Severus answered him anyway.</p><p>“Yes.” </p><p> </p><p>The fog around them reformed into a glare of glittering snow, with two men standing a little apart beside an incongruous circle of frozen greenery, one dressed all in black, and one in star-spangled royal blue. Harry looked down at the icy flowers, and back up at the real Severus beside him, and then back at the memory.</p><p> </p><p><em> “Severus,” </em> Albus said, folding his hands behind his back. <em> “You know there is no other way.” </em></p><p><em> “No other way?” </em> Severus’ past self spat, gesturing impatiently at the flowers. <em> “But this - Albus - surely this changes everything. He’s a treasure. He could do so much good. The Wizarding World could be forever changed. His magic is - ” </em></p><p>
  <em> “He has already changed the Wizarding World forever. And he will change it again, with his death. There is no other way.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Couldn’t we just - contain, or - or weaken the Dark Lord somehow? Give Harry a chance to live - at least for a few more years?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why? So you can keep him a little longer? You are still so selfish, Severus.” </em>
</p><p><em> “Selfish?” </em> Severus flinched back from the accusation as if it had been a physical blow. <em> “That - is too far.” </em></p><p><em> “Is it?” </em> Albus countered. <em> “You’d leave the Dark Lord alive to continue his campaign of terror so that you can hold on a little longer to your sixteen year old lover? What heroism.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Harry had never heard Dumbledore’s voice sound so incredibly cold. Colder than the icicles hanging from the trees. Cold to the point of cruelty. But then, he supposed he had not had much chance to see Severus interacting with Dumbeldore. Maybe he was always cold, and cruel, and distant. A master, not a mentor. Pushing, not leading. Secrets, and lies, and manipulation, like his brother Aberforth said. Maybe Severus saw the real Albus Dumbledore, while Harry had only ever seen a pleasant, eccentric mask.</p><p> </p><p><em> “How dare you?” </em> the memory Severus demanded, stiffening in fury. <em> “If you really think that’s </em> <em> true, you should have let the Governors sack me. No - you should have let Lupin cut my throat. Kill me now, where I stand, if you think Harry is just a body to me.” </em> He dragged back his sleeve to show the bracelet on his arm, holding it up in front of Albus’ face like a malediction. <em> “You gave me this. You gave me him. And I’ve done everything that you told me to do. I’ve taught him, and calmed him, and made him sleep. I’ve done my best to protect him. To keep him alive until you’re done with him!” </em> His voice had risen, and he took a deep breath as if seeking to calm himself, though he did not seem much calmer at all when he spoke again. <em> “You don’t care about him. You never did. If you had, you’d have taken him away from me back in August. Before things got so… before he - But I forget. You don’t want to know, do you? You don’t care. Well, I care. I want to save him, and it’s not because of his body!”  </em></p><p>
  <em> “He cannot be saved.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You don’t know that.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I do know it.” </em>
</p><p>Severus turned away. <em> “You’re wrong,” </em>he said.</p><p><em> “I wish that I was,” </em>Albus answered, though he did not sound like he wished for any such thing, really. He sounded impatient. </p><p>
  <em> “I can’t do this. I won’t.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You must.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I CAN’T!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry watched as Dumbledore tried to touch Severus’ shoulder and was violently rebuffed, and vaguely wondered why he wasn’t crying himself. It seemed that he should be. This was one of the most awful things he had ever seen, and the pain he could see in Severus’ eyes and hear in his voice could hardly be borne. But somehow Harry was bearing it, wasn’t he? He was just standing there watching, and he felt nothing, really. Just a numb, fizzing emptiness, like the static on Ron’s wireless. </p><p>He glanced back at the real Severus beside him and saw that he, at least, was crying. Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks, though his expression was quite blank. He looked rather like a statue, Harry thought. Like the iconography of some strange, foreign religion. A memorial to the grief and sorrow of a whole people. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Severus whispered, and then he just kept saying it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “Severus.” </em> Albus was quite stern, now, as if talking to a disappointing child. <em> “You have given me your word, and I must insist you follow through with it.” </em></p><p>At those words, Severus whipped back around in the snow, his expression tortured. <em> “You!” </em> he cried. <em> “You’d have me lead you both to the chopping block. No, more than that. You’d have me wield the axe!” </em></p><p><em> “Yes. And you must,” </em> Albus answered. He did not seem agitated at all. He seemed calm, and serene, and in control, and Harry understood right then why Severus had looked upon him with such hatred in the tower the night he died. <em> “And I need to know that you will do what must be done when I am gone,” </em> Albus continued. <em> “You are the one, Severus.” </em></p><p> </p><p>The words seemed almost to echo in the blanket of mist as it descended, and when Harry blinked, he was right back where he’d started, sitting in the chair beside Severus in the Headmaster’s office, with nothing but wood-grain in front of his eyes. </p><p>He stared at it.</p><p>Dumbledore’s voice reverberated in his head. <em> He cannot survive. He cannot be saved. He will change the Wizarding World with his death.  </em></p><p>All he had to do to save everyone, was… die? That was all? But… that was too easy, surely. After all the times he’d nearly died - after all of the times he’d <em> wanted </em>to die - that was the key? He was no stranger to death. Death had been by his side since the day two young, strong, vibrant, twenty-one year olds had lost their lives trying to protect him. Lily and James Potter, four years older than he was at that very moment. </p><p>And did he inhabit a different world than they had? </p><p>Sometimes he did, maybe. In small pieces here and there. When he was with Severus he could sometimes pretend that death wasn’t lurking behind every door. But that’s all it was - pretend. Pretend safety, pretend rest, pretend comfort. </p><p>It wasn’t real. Not in the way this was real. And Severus had known all along, hadn’t he? Severus had known that it was all temporary. He’d made a trade, that was all. His one great compromise. Love Harry for a year, or two, or three, in exchange for losing him. For leading him to the end. </p><p>Severus was so strong. Unspeakably strong to have been able to go through with this. </p><p>And Harry would be strong, too. Because Harry did not live in a different world than his parents. This was the same, unforgiving world. </p><p>This was the world that had taken Lily and James, and Sirius, and Cedric, and Dumbledore, and Hedwig, and Mad-eye, and Dobby, and Fred, and all the others that had fallen that very night without his knowledge. It might be dozens, or even hundreds. So, what was one more life, if it could stop the war? It was just one life.</p><p>It was just him, after all.</p><p>It was just him.</p><p> </p><p>“Harry,” Severus said, startling him out of his reverie, and Harry looked up to see Severus staring at him like he was afraid he might explode. But Harry was not going to explode. He was fine. He knew what to do now, and that had never happened before.</p><p>“Severus,” he said, and smiled as sincerely as he was able. “You tried so hard.” He meant it as a kindness, but still, Severus’ face contorted like his heart was breaking.</p><p>“Let me - hide you-” he choked out. “Harry - You don’t owe anything to these people. You don’t. We could run. We could leave - Come with me, now. Please.”</p><p>Harry felt pretty dazed, but he knew that was the wrong answer. “No,” he said slowly. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”</p><p>“Please,” Severus said again, and like he was being pulled by gravity itself, slid off his chair and to his knees. “Harry, please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t.” He took hold of Harry’s hands and looked up at him in supplication. “Please.”</p><p>“I love you,” Harry answered, because it seemed like the only thing to say.</p><p>“No,” Severus moaned, and his face crumpled into an expression of such despair that it hurt even to see it. “No, no-”</p><p>It was that pain that finally cut through the fog in Harry’s head, and he found himself suddenly angry at Severus for trying to make this seem like a choice. They both knew what he had to do. Why lie, now? Why make it a betrayal, when it didn’t need to be? </p><p>“Severus,” he said firmly, and Severus’ eyes were wide and dark and glistening with tears when they met his. “If you know me at all you know I won’t run. Now, listen to me, ok?” He glanced at the ticking clock on the wall, and saw that nearly half of the allotted hour given to him by the Dark Lord had passed. He wasn’t going to allow anyone else to die, and that meant he didn’t have very much time. No time to be gentle, anyway. No time to soften it. “Do you love me?” he asked, and when Severus did not answer, he asked it again, more firmly. “Severus. Do you love me?”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus gasped. </p><p>“Did you know I had to die when you gave yourself to me?”</p><p>That tortured expression returned, but he forced his answer out. “Yes.”</p><p>“If you could go back, and never love me, would you do it?” Harry demanded. </p><p>“Why are you asking that?” Severus breathed, looking frightened. </p><p>“Just answer me. Would you take it back? Never love me, and save yourself from feeling what you’re feeling now? Would you protect yourself instead of me?”</p><p>“No,” Severus answered, his voice abruptly hard. “I would - <em> never.” </em></p><p>Harry leaned forward to kiss his forehead, and spoke against his skin. “You knew,” he said. “You knew you were going to lose me, but you loved me anyway, didn’t you? You loved me anyway.”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus choked out, and Harry could hear in the sound of his voice that the tears had returned. </p><p>“I wouldn’t have even known what it felt like if not for you,” Harry continued, pressing his lips to Severus’ hairline, and his temple, and Severus’ hands came up to his wrists. They didn’t try to pull him off, though. They just held him. “And you didn’t have to. You could have sent me away the night you found out what I was, but you didn’t. You stayed with me as long as you could. You were so brave not to run.” He pulled back and saw that Severus’ eyes were closed, his eyelashes wet and black against the ashen pallor of his face. “But now it’s my turn, ok? Like you told me, back at school. No fear.”</p><p>“God,” Severus moaned, and he released Harry’s arms to seize his legs, pressing his face against them like a condemned man. “Harry - I didn’t mean <em> this.” </em></p><p>“Yes you did,” Harry answered, and rested one hand on the back of Severus’ head. “You meant this. You meant this all along, but it’s ok. You never would have been allowed to love me if I wasn’t going to die. Dumbeldore would have taken me aw-” he broke off at the sudden, cruel realization that it was the absolute truth. Dumbledore would never have permitted it if Harry had been a real person to him. But he wasn’t a person, and never had been. He was a sacrifice. A weapon. A tool. And so, Dumbledore had inadvertently given him the greatest gift imaginable. </p><p>He let Severus have him. He gave them the bracelets. And he testified for them in front of the Governors. That would have been it, otherwise. The Governors would have been the end of it, if it had started at all. That would have been the best-case scenario, really. A scant few months together, and then a suspicious bruise, an overdose, and a brutal separation at the hands of Remus Lupin and a dozen bureaucrats. He probably really would have killed himself if that had happened.</p><p>Huh.</p><p>Maybe there really was no way for him to survive. Maybe he was somehow fated to die young. Destined for it. And to think, if Severus had never come back from the Governors, he wouldn’t have even had the scratches to remind him of what they’d shared. It would’ve been like none of it had happened. Like Harry had never even existed.</p><p>Like…</p><p>Like none of it was real. </p><p>Because there was no scar.</p><p> </p><p>He lifted Severus’ chin back up from his knees to look into his eyes. “Severus,” he said. “Do you remember the hearing?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“And after?”</p><p>Severus’ lips trembled. “Yes,” he said again. “The flowers. I told you I had an argument with the Headmaster,” he let out a strangled sound half-way between a sob and a laugh. “And I did. And now you’ve seen it.”</p><p>“No,” Harry said. “Not that. You asked me to scratch you. You were bleeding, but you wouldn’t let me heal it. Do you remember?”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus said, though now he looked more confused than anything else. </p><p>“Did you want a scar?” Harry asked. “Is that what you wanted?”</p><p>“I - yes - I did.” Severus paused, and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Why are you-”</p><p>“Get up,” Harry said, tugging him up from his knees and back into the chair, and Severus went obediently. “Show me your Mark.” </p><p>“But - why?” he asked, and Harry took hold of his left arm and laid it on the desk between them.</p><p>“Show it to me,” he repeated, and again, Severus did as he was told, pushing his sleeve up past his bracelet, all the way to the elbow. The Dark Mark showed very clearly on his pale skin, black and terrible, and Harry covered it with his hand, wrapping his fingers tight around Severus’ forearm. “Severus,” he said, and when Severus looked up, Harry held his eyes. “I think this is going to hurt.”</p><p>“Go on,” Severus answered. “It’s only fair.”</p><p>“Yeah. Fair,” Harry said, and slid his free hand behind Severus’ neck, drawing him forward into a kiss. Severus tasted like tears and chordite, but still, it was good, the way it was always good to kiss him. The way it was always good to touch him. To be with him. To speak to him, and look at him, and know that he was there.</p><p>He tried not to think about the clock. </p><p> </p><p>Harry tasted like ashes and blood and healing potions, but Severus did not care. He didn’t care what Harry was going to do to him, either. There was only the kiss, and the howling cyclone inside him, hurling a thousand conflicting thoughts into his head. <em> Make him run let him go take him away he’s right he’s so strong go with him fight for him die by his side tell him he doesn’t have to do it tell him you’ll let the world burn tell him he’s stronger than this tell him that it’s alright that you’ll never forget him tell him you love him tell him you love him tell him you can’t live without him. </em></p><p>Harry gave a little hum, and tilted his head, and the hand behind Severus’ neck tightened like he didn’t want the kiss to end. And then there was a tingle of magic, and the stream of thoughts plaguing Severus’ mind vanished as a sudden and searing pain ignited in his arm. It was so shocking that he almost jerked back, but Harry held him still, held him in the kiss, and dug his fingers in, and in Severus’ head, a single idea remained over the stark background of pain - whatever this was, it was a gift from Harry, and he must not pull away.</p><p>He stiffened his body as best he could against the urge to fling Harry off or pitch his chair over backwards to escape, and he clenched his hands into fists as the tearing sensation in his arm increased, deepening like his very veins were being ripped from his flesh - the marrow from his bones - like the <em> cruciatus </em> forced into a single limb. It was absolutely unlike anything he had ever felt before, and just when he was sure that his self control would fail him, that he could not take a single second more, Harry broke the kiss with a gasp of disgust and tore his hand away. There was a splattering sound, and Severus opened his eyes to see a black, viscous, bloody blotch on the floor beside them.</p><p>Harry was cursing, trying in vain to flick the last of the vile stuff off his fingers, and Severus, panting and sweating, looked back at his own arm.</p><p>His Dark Mark was gone, and in its place there was a handprint. Raw, and wet, with drops of bright red blood welling up like rubies at the center where Harry’s palm had lain, and at the tips of the fingers. He stared at it, his vision tunneling and graying at the edges, trying to understand. </p><p>“You… can’t,” he said, and looked back at Harry to see him glare at the black residue on his hand until it puffed away from his skin like smoke. “That’s… impossible.”</p><p>“No one owns you but me,” Harry said, and when Severus met his eyes he saw that they were hard and set. Not angry, not afraid, just… hard.</p><p>“No,” Severus answered slowly. He felt delirious, just on the verge of fainting, but he did not faint. He could not. He needed to go with Harry. “No one but you.” He got to his feet, and when his knees threatened to spill him to the ground, steadied himself on the desk. “Let’s go.”</p><p>Harry stood up, too, and put his hand flat on Severus’ chest like he was considering pushing him back down into the chair. “No,” he said. “You’re not coming with me.”</p><p>“Yes, I am,” Severus answered. “I’m the master of the Elder Wand. I killed Rowle, and Dumbeldore, and Nagini. You need me.”</p><p>“Severus,” Harry said, and slid his palm up from Severus’ chest to his collar. “Listen to me. You’re going to have to finish it. After this, Voldemort will just be a man, but he’ll still be <em> him. </em> I need you to protect the others. Kill the Dark Lord, and - and - save Draco, ok? If you can.”</p><p>“You think-” Severus began, his entire body recoiling from the mere <em> idea </em> of such a thing. “You think I’d go with <em> Draco </em> instead of <em> you?” </em>Harry’s other hand joined the first, interlacing behind his neck to hold him still. “How can you think I’d-”</p><p>“Protect as many as you can,” Harry interrupted, tugging him down into a kiss. “For me.”</p><p>“No,” Severus said, turning his face away so that Harry’s lips slid across his jaw. “Harry - no. I’m not going to let you go alone.”</p><p>“Severus,” Harry repeated, and Severus did not like the way he was saying his name at all. “You’re the only person on earth that has ever really known me, and I love you more than anything. But you can’t stop me, and you can’t go with me, either. You’ll have work to do when I’m done. You have to stay.”</p><p>“I won’t,” Severus growled. </p><p>“You will,” Harry answered. But he didn’t sound stern. He sounded tired. “I’m sorry.” </p><p>Severus’ blood ran cold with sudden understanding. </p><p>“No -” he said. “Harry - no -”</p><p>“I love you,” Harry said again, and he rested his hand on Severus’ cheek with such tenderness, such reverence, such <em> regret, </em> that it could not possibly be tolerated. “I love you.” </p><p>“Harry<em> - please-” </em> Severus gasped. <em> “Don’t-” </em></p><p>He went to sleep. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. The Prince's Slumber</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Harry caught Severus as best he could, and lowered him gently to the ground. He was a lot heavier than Draco, and Harry was a lot more tired, but he managed alright. Then, once Severus was laid safely down on the floor in front of the chairs, Harry vanished the gross black stuff that had composed the Dark Mark, and took up Severus’ wounded arm. It was bleeding rather a lot, but he knew Severus wouldn’t want him to heal it, so instead of taking it away he conjured a white bandage over it, nice and tight, and hoped that would be enough.</p><p>Then he looked at the clock.</p><p>Fifteen minutes. That was a relief. It meant he didn’t have very much time to think. So he pulled out his cloak and threw it over his shoulders, and then, after a moment’s hesitation, summoned a little scrap of parchment and a sprig of yellow yarrow and put them in Severus’ hand. Then he brushed Severus’ hair back from his face, kissed him on the cheek, and turned to go.</p><p>Hopefully Severus would forgive him for doing this, someday. And himself, too. That would be good. For Severus to forgive himself. It wasn’t his fault, or anyone else’s, really. It just was what it was.</p><p>And though Harry felt bad for knocking him out like that, it was kind of nice to know how much Severus wanted to go with him. How much Severus wanted them to be together, even if it meant dying together. But Severus couldn’t die. It would be such a waste of such a good man. </p><p>
  <em> Stop thinking about Severus, now. No more of that.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Harry did not run as he made his way through the quiet castle. He just walked, keeping his mind as blank as possible. He didn’t need to be sharp for this, or powerful, or responsive, or smart, or creative. He just needed to walk into the forest and do nothing. And what a kindness that was. He was so tired. If he was supposed to fight now, he didn’t think he could even do it. He felt kind of like he had the day he’d woken up in the Hospital Wing with his brain full of fog and his fingertips burned. Probably from whatever he’d done to the Shrieking Shack. The way Severus looked at him right when he came to, it was like he -</p><p>
  <em> Don’t think about Severus. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hermione sure had seemed scared when she handed him the water. Just about ready to burst into tears. It was like they thought he wasn’t going to -</p><p>
  <em> Don’t think about Hermione, either. Think of something else.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Where even was the Deatheater camp? Surely it wasn’t far if they were expecting him to waltz right into it. It was probably just within the trees. Or, if it wasn’t, it would probably be somewhere easy to find. Funny. He’d gone into the Forbidden Forest tons of times, and pretty much every single time he’d almost died. And now he <em> was </em> going to die there. Kind of ironic, really. That was even where he’d first seen Voldemort. Drinking unicorn blood like some kind of weird vampiric wraith. Swooping around and scaring the pants off of everyone. And hey, at least Harry wasn’t going to be eaten by Aragog or his monstrous children. If he died like that, Ron would have nightmares for a -</p><p>
  <em> No, no. Not Ron, either.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Where did Draco go? Last Harry had seen him he’d been getting dragged by the hair. Hopefully he wasn’t hurt too badly. But if he had been, Severus would have healed him before leaving him, would he? Severus wouldn’t have - </p><p>
  <em> Stop thinking about Severus! God. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He hoped his parents would be proud of him if they knew what he was doing, but they might just be sad. They had died to keep him alive, hadn’t they? And now he was going to die anyway. But then, they’d <em> thrice defied </em> the Dark Lord. Maybe they would be happy that Harry had defied him so many times, too. How many would this be? Ten? He’d have to make a list. He supposed it would depend on what <em> defied </em>meant specifically. Dueling him definitely would count, but what about back-talk? Severus would probably say - </p><p>His heart lurched in his chest.</p><p>
  <em> Oh, god, Harry, stop thinking about Severus. Please. Stop thinking about him. Think about something else. Anything else. Just not Severus. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He thought about his mother again, but that just made him think of her letters, which made him think of Severus. He turned his mind to Quidditch, which made him think of brooms, which made him think of escaping from the Room of Requirement with Draco shrieking behind him, and that made him think about Draco screaming in Severus’ rooms and threatening to kill himself, and THAT made him think about Severus. And then he thought about Severus, and then he thought about Severus.</p><p>He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop thinking about Severus lying unconscious on the floor, and for a moment he almost turned back around. Almost fled straight back to the Headmaster's office to revive him, to beg for forgiveness, or protection, or just a bit more time. He knew he couldn’t - that he <em> mustn’t - </em>that the lives of hundreds of people were resting on his shoulders - but the urge was so strong that for a frozen second he was absolutely sure he would ripped in two trying to resist it. </p><p>But just then, just as his legs refused to take him a single step further, he heard a noise. It was… a wail. And it filled his head just the way he needed.</p><p>
  <em> “Dora - Dora - No - NO!” </em>
</p><p>He kept walking.</p><p> </p><p>Who was that? Merlin, what a terrible sound. And there was more, too. A jumble of weeping and speaking, spellwork and prayer, begging and shouting and crying.</p><p>
  <em> “Dora, why? Why? Why baby, why?” </em>
</p><p>He turned the final corner towards the Great Hall, and understood what he was hearing. It was the makeshift Hospital Wing. It was the mingled voices of a hundred people in pain of a hundred kinds. But more specifically, what he was hearing was Remus Lupin huddled over a body, screaming his agony into the empty space around him. For there was an empty space around him. No one, it seemed, dared intrude on his grief. Like it was a physical force.</p><p>Harry stopped, invisible, by the door.</p><p>Tonks, then.</p><p>Tonks had not survived. </p><p>She was lying there dead, and Harry had sent her out of the Room of Requirement, hadn’t he? Harry had done that to get the diadem. He’d sent a new mother out into this battlefield, to get at one seventh - or, one <em> eighth, </em>he supposed - of Voldemort’s soul. He’d done that to her, and to Lupin, and to their son. He hadn’t meant to, but… that didn’t matter.</p><p>He stood stock-still, listening to Lupin’s voice, wondering in a distant sort of way who else he’d gotten killed, and whether he should try to see or not. But then he saw a cluster of red-haired people, with one bushy brown-haired interloper, and he flinched back. He did not want to see Fred’s body, or the faces of the other Weasleys. He did not want to see Ron and Hermione grieving over the fallen, or trying to patch up the injured. He could not bear it, and he had no time to try. He had to go now, right now, before his time was up and more people joined Tonks on the floor. He turned to go, but froze again as his eyes caught on a body laying by itself near the wall. There was no one around it, no family that he could see. It was alone, and tiny, and blonde-haired. </p><p>A rush of ice-cold shock poured through him. </p><p>It was Colin Creevey.</p><p> </p><p>He ran.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Hermione looked up.</p><p>“Ron?” she said, and Ron looked up too, his face puffy and streaked with tears. Percy and Ginny were beside him, weeping together and holding hands. “What time is it?” </p><p>“What?” Ron asked. He sounded dazed, almost like he’d been sleeping.</p><p>“What <em> time is it?” </em>Hermione repeated in a low whisper. </p><p>“Oh. I - I dunno,” he said, wiping his face. “Dad? What time is it?” </p><p>“It’s ten to three,” Arthur answered, looking down at his pocket watch with all the interest of a mannequin before turning back towards his wife. He did not ask why it mattered, or why Ron wanted to know. He just turned back towards his wife, and the body of his son. No time for anything else. No room for any other thoughts. Just his son, and his wife, and the great chasm of their grief. </p><p>Ron and Hermione did not have that luxury, though. Harry had said half an hour, and that had long passed, and they looked once at each other, and moved out of the crowd to speak. </p><p>“Y’reakon we need McGonagall?” Ron asked quietly.</p><p>“I don’t know. But if Harry had an hour, it’s up. Didn’t he say half an hour <em> ‘at most’?” </em></p><p>“Yeah, he did,” Ron answered. “So, what? Are we going to go drag them out by ourselves? What if they’re - I dunno. Busy?”</p><p>Hermione frowned. “No, I suppose we better not go alone. Do you see McGonagall anywhere? She’ll come.”</p><p>They scanned the crowd, and a ways away, near an intense bustle of activity around Lavender Brown, they spotted a severe knot of grey hair.</p><p>“There!”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry did not stop running until he reached the edge of the forest and, his chest heaving, caught himself on a tree. He took as deep a breath as he could manage, pressing his thumb hard into his wrist to control the surge of emotion threatening to drown him. He could control it. He knew he could. Severus had taught him to control it.</p><p>
  <em> One. Two. Three. Four. Five. </em>
</p><p>His breathing eased a bit, but not enough, and he released the point and pressed into it again.</p><p>
  <em> Severus taught you how to do this, and this is what it was for. You can do it. Breathe. Breathe.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> One. Two. Three. FOUR. FIVE. </em>
</p><p>His heart was pounding wildly against his ribs like it wanted to escape from his chest, and he focused on it, trying to imagine that he <em> was </em> Severus, master of his own mind and body. That he could slow his own heart, that he could bend his own thoughts to his will. But it was no good. He wasn’t Severus, and Severus wasn’t here, and he didn’t feel masterful at all. He felt like a kid.</p><p>How could everyone have put their faith in <em> him? </em> He wasn’t strong enough to do this. He wasn’t. All those bodies proved it. All those bodies laid out on the floor of the Great Hall - all those people he hadn’t been smart enough, or brave enough, or powerful enough to save. </p><p>And <em> Colin.  </em></p><p>Colin had always loved him. Always wanted to take his picture, and follow him around, and be his friend. Colin wasn’t even of age. He wouldn’t have been allowed to stay. He must have snuck back in to help Harry. Just for Harry.</p><p>Harry may as well have dealt the blow himself.</p><p>
  <em> Control that! Harry, come on. Control that. You have a job to do. And if you don’t do it, even more people will die because of you. Hermione, and Ron, and Severus, and all your teachers and everyone in Dumbledore’s Army. All the Seventh Years that stayed, and everyone in the Order. Lupin will die and his son will be an orphan. McGonagall will die, and Hagrid will die and everyone will DIE if you don’t fucking CONTROL THIS. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. </em>
</p><p>The trigger point wasn’t working half as well as he needed it to, and he turned around and dug his forehead into the rough bark of the tree, breathing hard. What else was there, other than the point? He couldn’t care about Colin or the others right now. He couldn’t care about <em> anything </em> but presenting himself to the Dark Lord. He had to walk right into the arms of death without reservation, or fear. He had to be completely apart from all the carnage and tragedy. He had to be detached, and distant, and aloof, and he had to be cocky enough to walk right up to the Dark Lord <em> knowing </em>that he was going to die for it. And just bloody do it anyway.</p><p>Whatever kind of person that was, that was who he needed to be. </p><p>It didn’t have to be real. It didn’t even have to last that long. It just had to get him to the end, that was all. He just had to control his fear long enough to get him through this last door. Just through the door, that was all. Just like… like… the feast.</p><p>He opened his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Minerva did not argue when they whispered the time to her. She just stood up. </p><p>“Keep trying, Poppy,” she said to Madam Pomfrey, who nodded gravely as she moved her wand in complicated patterns over Lavender’s mutilated face. Poor Lavender. She was terribly mangled, like she’d been mauled by a dog, and Hermione had to tug on Ron’s arm to break him out of the shock of seeing her that way. </p><p>“C’mon,” she said. “Ron. C’mon. We have to go.”</p><p>“Merlin, if we’d been just a bit faster,” he said, horror-struck, following in Hermione’s wake. “We could have gotten Greyback off of her before he - before he…” he trailed off, and shook his head. “Just like Bill. Blimey.” </p><p>“We did the best we could,” Hermione answered shakily. “And he won’t do that to anyone else ever again. But we have to get Harry, now. C’mon.” She pulled him a little harder to try to catch up to McGonagall, and outside the doors, they managed it.</p><p>“Professor?” Ron asked, calling out to McGonagall striding ahead of them. “Is Lavender going to die? She looked… really bad.”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Minerva answered shortly. “She fell from the bannisters before that monstrosity got at her. Her back is broken. Hurry up you two.”</p><p>They took the stairs two at a time, weaving through the piles of rubble and holes blasted in the corridor floors, taking shortcuts and alternate routes where the halls were impassible. They had to double back once on the third floor, where the explosion that killed Fred had left a pit six meters wide, but even so, they made good time.</p><p>“How are we going to get in?” Hermione asked as they ran. “What sort of password did Snape have?”</p><p>“I don’t think that will be much of an obstacle,” Minerva answered, panting. “The Guardian for the Headmaster’s office is sentient just like all of our door-guards. Every portrait and statue in the school knows we are at war.”</p><p>“So, what? You think he’ll just let us in ‘cause it’s an emergency?” Ron asked.</p><p>“I do,” Minerva answered, and she was quite right. When they reached the gargoyle it took one look at her disheveled appearance and stood aside without question. </p><p>“Brilliant!” Ron said as they entered the moving stone staircase. “Bloody brilliant.” He withdrew his wand, and Hermione followed suit. Who knew what they would find. Harry had sworn he would come down to the Great Hall when he was done, and he hadn’t. And that either meant that Harry was not done, or Harry had lied. And neither of those options seemed very good to her.</p><p>“What do you think they’re doing?” she whispered as they reached the oaken double doors. “Still in the Pensieve? It’s been over forty-five minutes.”</p><p>“Dunno,” Ron answered, pulling the doors open. “Maybe they’re sn- Oh, shit.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Walking beside the shades of his parents and his Godfather, Harry did not need to use his trigger point again. He felt oddly free now that he knew what to do, and his feet seemed to move over the leaf-litter and twigs of their own accord. The echoes of Lily, James and Sirius made no noise through the underbrush, and he could not touch them, but he hadn’t expected to be able to anyway. In the Tale of the Three Brothers, the resurrection stone hadn’t really revived anyone. It had called them back, sure, but not to <em> live. </em> Just to visit. And so his parents and Sirius were visiting him now. Walking with him through the forest, shielding him from Dementors and despair alike.</p><p>He looked over to his mother keeping pace with him on his right, and smiled at her. She was far more beautiful than he ever could have imagined. Lovelier in motion than she had ever been in those stolen moments before the mirror of Erised. A candle in the dark, just like Severus said. And on his left, his father, so like himself in looks, and kinder now than he had been in Severus’ Pensieve. This James was mature: a parent, a soldier, and a man, and looking at him, Harry wondered what might have happened if there had never been a war. Would Severus and James have remained such enemies in peacetime, or would they, perhaps, have been able to move past it? And Sirius, younger than Harry had ever seen him. Buoyant, almost happy, beside his lost best friend and his Godson. </p><p>And they were proud, after all. They had told him so. They had told him that he was brave, and strong, and loved, and that it was almost done. And those things were good to hear, even if the one person he really wanted to hear them from was not beside him. But that was the greatest gift of all, really.</p><p>Severus was not with him because Severus had not died. Harry had managed to save him. He’d been powerful and clever enough to do that much, at least. Severus was alive, and if he did what Harry told him, he would continue to live. He would save Draco, and the others, and go on without him. Severus Snape, the lone survivor of the deadly disease of loving Harry Potter. </p><p>Severus Snape, who had poured strength into Harry in every way he could. Severus, who had taught him to sleep, and told him to eat, and made him promise not to hurt himself. Severus, who had loved him, and protected him, and pulled impossible magic out of him. Severus, who had fought and killed and lied for him. Severus, who had taught him how to master his fear, and when he could not master it, how to hide it.</p><p>Severus might hate himself for making Harry strong enough to do this, but Harry did not hate him for it. Harry loved him, and would love him right to the end, and make him proud. Because Harry Potter was not afraid, and Harry Potter had <em> never been afraid. </em></p><p>Harry Potter was arrogant.</p><p>Harry Potter was privileged. </p><p>Harry Potter was a Wizard Prince. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus sat bolt upright with a gasp of alarm, and then recoiled back against the chairs as his eyes focused on the people around him.</p><p>Minerva. Hermione. Ron. </p><p>Minerva, and Harry’s friends… </p><p>And no Harry. </p><p>“What time is it?” he demanded, staggering to his feet. He was dizzy, and he steadied himself on one of the chairs. “What - what - time is it?”</p><p>“Five past three,” Ron answered, holding out his hands. “Where’s Harry? He didn’t-”</p><p>“Oh <em> GOD.” </em>Severus clutched his head, and then cried out as his wounded arm protested. It took a moment for him to remember why he was in pain, and when he did he felt the earth tilt underneath him.</p><p>“What happened?” Minerva asked, reaching for him like she was afraid he was going to fall. “Severus - you were unconscious. What happened?”</p><p>“What’s this?” Hermione asked, stooping down to pick something up off the floor. “It was in your hand when you - oh.”</p><p>Severus snatched the parchment from her fingers, saw that it was folded around a sprig of yarrow, and flung it away with a shriek of horror. </p><p>“Whoa, hey,” Ron said, taking hold of his shoulders. “Calm down. Take a deep breath.”</p><p>“Let GO!” Severus tried to shrug him off, but Ron was stronger than he was expecting. Or maybe he himself was weaker. “He’s gone - I have to go after him - LET GO OF ME!”</p><p>“What do you mean <em> gone?” </em> Ron demanded. “Fucking hold still!” He pinned Severus back against the edge of the desk. “STOP THAT! What do you mean he’s <em> gone? </em> How could you let him <em> go?” </em></p><p>“I didn’t fucking<em> let him </em> do <em> anything! </em> GET OFF OF ME!”</p><p>“Hold still!”</p><p>“It just says, <em> ‘live,’” </em> Hermione said softly, holding the scrap of paper out for McGonagall to see. </p><p>“Oh God, <em> no,” </em> Severus moaned, covering his face and digging his fingernails into his scalp. “He’s gone, he’s <em> gone, HE’S GONE-” </em></p><p>“Calm down! Is that blood? Where is that coming from? Stop that- HEY! Stop it!”</p><p>
  <em> “HE’S GONE HE’S GONE-” </em>
</p><p>“SNAPE!” Ron bellowed. <em> “GET IT TOGETHER!” </em> He dragged Severus’ hands away from his face, and slapped him. </p><p>There was a shocked silence.</p><p>“Ronald!” Minerva gasped. </p><p>“Sorry,” Ron answered, and then said it to Severus, who was just standing there, stunned, his head snapped to the side. “Sorry, Professor Snape. Just… you were hysterical.”</p><p>“That’s… quite alright, Weasley,” Severus said slowly, and then turned back to look at the others. “I take it you <em> rennervated </em> me.”</p><p>“Yes,” Minerva answered. </p><p>“That can trigger a… panic response. Thank you for shocking me out of it.” Severus held out his hand to Hermione. “May I see that, please?” Hermione handed the parchment over immediately, and Severus looked down at it. It did, indeed, say, <em> ‘live,’ </em> and that was all. He put it in his pocket, and when he looked back up all three of them seemed quite terrified. “I’m fine,” he said.</p><p>“Ok… Good,” Ron answered. “Now that you’re not trying to rip off your own face, where did Harry go? Why were you unconscious? And why are you bleeding?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry could see the fires of the Dark Lord’s camp clearly through the trees now, and he paused just beyond the border of the clearing, and looked over at his mother. She gave him a small nod, and a sad little smile. </p><p>“I love you, Harry,” she said. “I’m so sorry for all this.” </p><p>Harry was too close to the enemy now to answer her. No one could hear his companions but him, of course, the way no one else could see them, but his own voice would certainly carry. So instead of speaking out loud, he just thought his answer, and she nodded again like she could understand. </p><p>
  <em> I’m sorry too, mum. </em>
</p><p>“We’ll see you soon,” his father said. “He will want it to be quick. He’s afraid of you, you know. He was afraid of us, too.”</p><p>
  <em> He should be afraid. He’s going to lose. </em>
</p><p>Then Sirius spoke, raking one pale hand through his hair. “You’re ten times the man Voldemort is,” he said. “Give ‘em hell, Harry.”</p><p>
  <em> Oh, I will. </em>
</p><p>He looked at each of them one more time, and dropped the resurrection stone into the  mulch at his feet. The visions of his lost family extinguished around him like mirages, and he took a deep breath. It was finally time. Time to stand tall in defiance. Time to look the Dark Lord right in the eye and say:</p><p>Go fuck yourself. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I thought he would come,” Voldemort said, almost to himself. “I was <em> sure… </em> well. No matter. If he is too cowardly to present himself, I shall seek him out. Bellatrix?”</p><p>“Yes, my Lord?” Bellatrix breathed worshipfully. </p><p>“Rally my forces. His time is up.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m late for everything.” Harry said it with as much flippancy as he could muster, and when the Deatheaters closest to him gasped and whirled around, he whipped his cloak off with an obnoxious flourish and stepped into the firelight. Cries of shock, indignation, and relief erupted through the assembled fighters, and Harry angled himself towards the greatest concentration of them and adjusted his glasses with his wand-hand. It was incredibly arrogant to be so visibly unarmed, he knew, and at the gesture a few of the Deatheaters even laughed. It sounded kind of uncomfortable though, which he thought was a good sign. “No manners at all, I.”</p><p>“HARRY, NO!” a voice bellowed from the far edge of the clearing, and Harry turned to see Hagrid struggling wildly where he was lashed to a tree. “NO! HARRY! N-” </p><p><em> “Quiet!” </em> Bellatrix spat, silencing him with a flick of her wand. “Filthy <em> halfbreed.” </em></p><p>“Oh, hey Hagrid,” Harry answered. “Where’s Grawp when we need him, eh? Rip that tree right out by the roots.” He turned back towards the Dark Lord and crossed his arms. “So, gonna kill me, or are we just having a chat?”</p><p>There was a pause as Voldemort’s eyes raked over him, and Harry could tell he’d been expecting cringing and weeping and begging for mercy. </p><p>
  <em> Severe miscalculation, there.  </em>
</p><p>“Such arrogance,” the Dark Lord hissed, and he shifted his weight in an interesting sort of way. It was almost a tremor, and Harry wondered - was it excitement? Rage? Or could it be… just a little bit of fear? A little confusion, a bit of anxiety maybe, at the way Harry was carrying himself? That would be better. If the Dark Lord really was afraid like his father and Severus said, he would probably make this quick, and Harry wasn’t really in the mood to be tortured to death.</p><p>
  <em> Double down. </em>
</p><p>“Yeah,” he said. “It’s my worst quality. The arrogance thing. I’ve heard people find it irritating.”</p><p>Voldemort’s thin lips pulled back from his teeth. “Enough nonsense,” he snarled. “Kneel, boy!”</p><p>Harry did not kneel. Instead, he ruffled his hair with a light laugh, and forced his terror to heel. </p><p><em>Strong</em>.<em> No fear.</em> <em>Wizard Prince. Annoy him until he kills you. He’ll look so pathetic. And in front of all his Deatheaters, too. Sad.</em></p><p>“Sorry, Tom,” Harry said. “There’s only one person I get on my knees for, and he’s not here.” He gave Hagrid a little wink, and Hagrid stared back at him with a look of utter bafflement. “Not that you aren’t… sort of… well, no, actually. You’re pretty foul. But you do look a lot better than you did when Wormtail put you in that cauldron. That was <em> revolting. </em> Not as bad as the time you were in the back of that bloke’s head, though. <em> Blegh!” </em>Harry gave an exaggerated shudder of disgust. “Traumatized me right proper. What a thing for an eleven-year-old kid to see.”</p><p>
  <em> I was only eleven and I still beat you. </em>
</p><p>The Dark Lord’s slit-like nostrils flared, and his eyes flicked over his lieutenants and then back to Harry like he was checking to see if they were all hearing the same thing he was hearing. But they were hearing it, because Harry was fucking saying it, wasn’t he? </p><p>“You dare speak to me like that?” The Dark Lord demanded.</p><p>“Yeah, I do,” Harry answered. “I killed your snake, and I stole your right hand man, and you’re about to lose the war. Why should I be polite?” He paused, counting on his fingers. “Oh, I got Draco, too. He’s annoying, but pretty smart. Smart enough to defect to the winning side, anyway. Plus, he looks <em> great </em> with a black eye. Oh, hey Mrs. Malfoy. How’s it going?”</p><p>There was a collective intake of breath. </p><p>“My god, what a mouth!” someone gasped, and Harry looked in the general direction of the voice, and blew a kiss. </p><p>“Sorry, I’m taken,” he said. “And I’m really only into <em> ex- </em>Deatheaters, you know.”</p><p>This was starting to get kind of fun. Everyone must have been right about him all along. He was absolutely barking mad. Just a bloody lunatic, needling the Dark Lord with a hundred Deatheaters and a bunch of big spiders and giants and stuff surrounding him. What had Severus called him? A mad beast?</p><p><em> Ha. </em> </p><p>“Kill him, my Lord!” Bellatrix cried. “He insults you!”</p><p>A murmur moved through the other Deatheaters, but Voldemort seemed almost speechless, so Harry gave him a toothy grin, imagining the face Severus would be making if he was there, undercover. If he was standing behind the Dark Lord right now, watching Harry get in his face like this.</p><p>He <em> would </em> be proud. </p><p>And just… horrified.</p><p>“That wasn’t an insult, Bella,” Harry said. “If I wanted to insult him I’d probably say something about his gross nose.” He paused, looking between Bellatrix and Voldemort. “Actually, I have a question. Are you two shagging? I have a bet with my friends.”</p><p>Voldemort let out a strangled snarl of fury and finally, finally raised his wand. “Are you really so unafraid?” he demanded.</p><p>“Yup,” Harry answered.</p><p>
  <em> “AVADA KEDAVRA!” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p><em> “Inside him?” </em>Hermione gasped. “But - this whole time?”</p><p>“Albus meant him to go?” Minerva demanded. “How can he have? He’s just a boy!” She looked to Albus’ empty portrait like she was hoping to have at him, but Severus just looked at Ron. Ron Weasley had protected Harry when Severus was not able to, and Ron Weasley would be his judge, now. But Ron didn’t look as angry as Severus was expecting, and for a moment he rather wanted to shake him. </p><p>
  <em> Don’t you understand? Don’t you understand what I’ve done? </em>
</p><p>“You tried to stop him from going,” Ron said. “So he knocked you out, just like he did Malfoy.”</p><p>“No,” Severus corrected him. “I didn’t try to stop him. I tried to go with him. But he…”</p><p>“He wouldn’t let you.”</p><p>Severus looked at his hands. “No.”</p><p>“But - Ron!” Hermione cried. “We have to go with him! We have to go <em> now! </em>We should have gone right away!” She grabbed his arm, but Ron did not move, and he did not look away from Severus’ face.</p><p>“It’s too late, isn’t it?” he asked, and beside him, tears began to pour out of Hermione’s eyes.</p><p>“Yes,” Severus said. He felt cold. Frozen, all the way down to his toes. Paralyzed with a vacant numbness now that his panic had passed. Because it was too late. It was way, way too late, and Harry was probably already gone.</p><p>“No, Ron, we have to go. It’s not too late, it can’t be-” Hermione wept, tugging on his sleeve. “Come on, if we go now, if we r-run, maybe we can catch him!” Finally, Ron turned towards her.</p><p>“Hermione, hey,” he said, gently disengaging her fingers from his clothes and cupping her face in his hands. “Hey. This is Harry we’re talking about, yeah? He <em>never </em>follows the rules. Never.” He looked back at Snape. “You ever see anything like what he did to the Shack?”</p><p>“No,” Severus answered, and watching Hermione cry, he wondered if Harry was crying, too. If he was afraid, and if the Dark Lord was hurting him. Or, if Ron was correct, and Harry really was out there just breaking the rules. If he was standing tall, blinding the forces of evil with his incredible power.</p><p>And then he wondered if the Dark Lord even knew that the explosion in the Shrieking Shack had come out of Harry’s body. He probably didn’t. He probably had no idea.</p><p>“I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” he finished.</p><p>“We saw him deflect a killing curse in the Room of Requirement too,” Ron continued. “Didn’t we?”</p><p>“Y-yes,” Hermione sniffed. “And he blocked the <em> cruciatus </em> with his h-hand.”</p><p>“And he tore out my Dark Mark,” Severus added, looking down at his bandaged arm. He did not remember putting a bandage on, but he supposed Harry must have done it while he was unconscious. Blood had soaked through the white cotton in the shape of Harry’s hand, and though Hermione and Minerva had each offered to heal it, he’d categorically refused. It would be an excellent and painful scar, and he had earned it, and no one was going to take it away. </p><p>“I also understand that he broke into Gringotts,” Minerva added. “And escaped on the back of a dragon.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ron said. It was almost a laugh. “The mad bastard.” Hermione chuckled weakly, and wiped her eyes, and Ron turned back to Snape. “So. Impossible things are not so impossible for him, maybe, yeah?”</p><p>
  <em> An impossible survival at the age of one. An impossible childhood at the hands of abusive monsters. An impossible introduction into the Wizarding World. A hundred impossible acts of defiance, a thousand impossible accomplishments.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> An impossible love affair with an impossible man.  </em>
</p><p>“Everything about him is impossible,” Severus answered quietly. </p><p>“Right down to his bloody scar.”</p><p>“But - wait,” Hermione said suddenly. “When the fragment is gone… I mean, the piece of soul inside him… Voldemort won’t be dead, will he? He’ll just be… mortal?”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus answered. “He will just be a man.”</p><p>“Then we will have to fight,” Minerva said. “We will have to finish it.”</p><p>“That’s right.” Severus looked back down at his bandage, and the blood smeared across his bracelet. “That’s what Harry told me, before he left. To finish it. And-” He swallowed. “To protect as many people as I can.”</p><p>“Well. Let’s go, then,” Hermione said, her eyes suddenly alight with purpose. “We have to get ready! And there are still a lot of people hurt downstairs. You can start with them!” </p><p><em> For Harry, </em> she meant.</p><p>“Yeah.” Ron added, looking appraisingly at Severus. “You healed my crushed-up legs in about thirty seconds, Snape. C’mon. We need you.”</p><p>Severus looked at the pair of them standing there, ready to fight. These two, certainly, would carry on to the end. And he would, too.</p><p>For Harry. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Harry lay still, face down, listening. For a long moment, he had no idea where he was, or if he was even anywhere at all. The last thing he remembered was a bright green flash. So… that must mean he was dead. But there was a smell. And for there to be a smell, there had to be a <em> nose </em> on a <em> face </em> connected to a <em> brain </em> in a <em> place with smells, </em>didn’t there? It was a good smell, too. A familiar one. Wet earth and leaves like the clearing in the Forbidden Forest, but different. More fertile. And… flowers.</p><p>There were sounds too, he realized. What he had first taken as vacant silence was nothing of the kind. There was a soft rustling, like wind through leaves, and a little babble of water over stones, and far in the distance, a bird calling. </p><p>Oh. </p><p>He knew that sound, and that smell, and he knew where he was, too.</p><p>He was in his magic.</p><p> </p><p>When had he gone there?</p><p> </p><p>Harry opened his eyes to see that he was laying in a patch of dappled sunlight in a little sheltered glade and, very gingerly, he propped himself up to sit. He rather expected to be in pain, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t even that tired anymore, and when he looked up at the sky overhead he saw that it was a gorgeous, clear day. Mid-day, not mid-night, and there was nary a cloud to be seen. Getting to his feet, he turned in a slow circle. The jungle around him pulsed with life. It was definitely his magic. He could feel it.</p><p><em> Was </em> he dead? And if he was, did that mean that every Wizard went to their magic when they died? Not a bad place to go for eternity, he supposed, but what if they didn’t know how to get there? Surely not every Wizard was trained in the magical meditation Severus had taught him. Did they just get… lost?</p><p>“My goodness, Harry. Where are we? The Amazon Rainforest?”</p><p>Harry gasped and spun around to see Albus Dumbledore sitting on a large and mossy stone, dressed in purple velvet.</p><p>“Holy hell!” he cried, clutching his heart. “You scared me!” </p><p>“Apologies,” Albus said, inclining his head in acknowledgement before looking around. “This is quite a lovely sanctuary you’ve created.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Harry answered, but then stopped. “Hey, wait a minute.” He crossed his arms. “Fuck you.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alternate title for this chapter:</p><p>Chapter 13: KING BRAT</p><p>p.s. I wrote a throwback one-shot if y'all want some smut. Click through to the "next work"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Harry Potter's Lover</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Severus hesitated outside the Great Hall, and Hermione took his hand.</p><p>“C’mon,” she said. “No one will try to kill you with us right there.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ron agreed. “We’re Harry’s best friends. Everyone knows that. Who’ll think you’re a bloody Deatheater if you’re with us?”</p><p>“You might be surprised,” Severus muttered. “I’ve a bit of a reputation for skulduggery and deception, you see.” But he obeyed the tug of Hermione’s hand all the same, and went in after them. And inside the door it immediately became clear that they were wrong, and he was right. He’d barely taken two steps into the Hall, in fact, when a boy with a bandaged head caught sight of him and started to scream. </p><p>“DEATHEATER! DEATHEATER! HELP!”</p><p>Severus froze in place as a hundred faces turned towards him, followed by a forest of wands. </p><p>“You were saying?” he hissed, raising his hands as Ron and McGonagall moved to stand in front of him. Hermione just grimaced and shrugged.</p><p>“He’s on our side! Didn’t you hear Voldemort call him a traitor?” Ron said, sounding exasperated. “Put your bloody wands down. What’re you gonna do? Curse me to get at him? Come <em> on.” </em></p><p>“Stand down,” Minerva added. “He’s an asset.”</p><p>A few of the wands dropped, but Severus did not move a single muscle. What an ignominious end it would be to be cut down by a twitchy seventh-year. </p><p>“I came to help the wounded,” he said slowly. “I can help.” He recognized almost everyone that was pointing a wand at him, actually. Weasleys of all ages, sixth and seventh-year students, the other Professors, and the Order of the Phoenix. And, of course, Remus Lupin. Of. Bloody. <em> Course. </em> </p><p>“Want to <em> help, </em>do you?” Lupin demanded, shouldering past Kingsley Shacklebolt with his wand held out and his face blotchy and tear-stained. Severus did not know for whom he’d been weeping, but he seemed positively demented with grief, so it must have been his wife. And if it had been her, Lupin was probably deadlier at that moment than he had ever been in his life. </p><p>“Lupin-” Ron began, but Remus just grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him unceremoniously out of the way, and Minerva and Hermione took his place, their wands aloft.</p><p>“Stand down, Remus,” McGonagall said, and though her voice was commanding, it was also very calm. She could obviously see that Lupin was not in control of himself, and was trying to de-escalate. Lupin did not seem very interested in being mollified, though, and Severus shifted back a step. He did not want his first act after leaving the Dark Lord to be the murder of an Order member, but if Remus didn’t calm down, it was going to be. </p><p>“Get out of the way, Minerva,” Lupin growled. “I’ve no quarrel with you.”</p><p>“Stand. Down,” she repeated. </p><p>“Professor Lupin!” Hermione broke in. “Professor Snape is on our side! He was a spy! Didn’t you hear-” Remus pointed his wand at her, instead.</p><p>“You expect me to believe that?” he snarled into her face. “It’s a bloody trick! He just <em> confused you </em> the way he confused Harry. He’s a <em> liar </em> and a <em> murderer </em> and a fucking <em> rapist.”  </em></p><p>Ron’s wand appeared at his temple. “Back off of her, mate,” he said. “Back. Off. Of. Her.”</p><p>Severus watched Lupin’s expression darken still further, and he tensed to summon his wand to his hand. He certainly wouldn’t allow friendly fire to take out either of Harry’s friends. <em> ‘Protect as many as you can,’ </em>was as good as an unbreakable vow as far as he was concerned, and who could be more important to Harry than Ron and Hermione? If he had to kill Lupin, fine. He was behaving dangerously.</p><p>And Severus didn’t like him.</p><p>“Don’t make me hurt you, Ron,” Lupin said. “I will, if I have to.”</p><p>“I’m not the one starting shit,” Ron said. “Now back up or I’ll make you back up.”</p><p>“Hey! Stop!” came a shrill voice.</p><p>“Professor Snape’s good! He attacked the Carrows!” came another.</p><p>And then both voices together: “We heard it!” </p><p>Two girls appeared, smeared with dirt and blood, and inserted themselves between Lupin and Hermione. Severus looked at these new allies with interest, letting the <em> accio </em>dissolve from his mind. He knew them, he realized. He’d taught them for seven years, in fact. One of them had even been quite good at potions. Not Mandy, though. She was abysmal.</p><p>“Good evening Miss Brocklehurst, Miss Turpin,” he said. “I’m glad to see you alive. Brave of you to stay and fight.” Mandy glanced at him over her shoulder with an uncomfortable sort of smile.</p><p>“And who the fuck is <em> this?” </em>Lupin demanded.</p><p>“Those would be two of our Ravenclaw seventh-years,” Minerva answered shortly. “That you’re <em> threatening with bodily harm.” </em> </p><p>Lisa crossed her arms. “We heard Professor Snape with Harry in our common room <em> hours </em>ago,” she said. “He was helping! And we aren’t confused. He didn’t even see us.”</p><p>“Yeah!” Mandy added. “He cast the <em> cruciatus </em>on Amycus and told him it was a mistake to hurt Harry.”</p><p>“And Harry told him not to kill the Carrows so we wouldn’t get scared, and then told him to go to the Dark Lord and stab him in the back. And… um.” They looked at eachother, and back at Snape with his hands in the air, and under the grime on their faces he saw them turn red. “They’re… friends.”</p><p>So much for obliviating Luna Lovegood. </p><p>“Yeah!” Mandy said again. “He was helping, ok? So calm down. You only taught here for <em> one year.” </em></p><p>“FRIENDS?” Remus howled. “What do you think I am, deaf?” He pointed his wand at Severus’ forehead through the barricade of his protectors. “I’ll cut your throat. Deatheater <em> scum.”  </em></p><p><em> That is quite enough. </em> </p><p>“Deatheater scum, am I?” Severus asked evenly, resting one hand on Hermione’s shoulder. She took one look back at him and stepped aside, pulling Lisa and Mandy with her to let him pass. “Allow me to submit to your scrutiny then, inquisitor Lupin.” He pulled back his sleeve to expose the gory bandage, and then ripped it off. It hurt to do it - the cotton had stuck - and blood began to well up out of the exposed wound almost at once. The livid shape of Harry’s hand was clear and shockingly red against the pale flesh of his forearm, and he held it out for everyone to see. “What sort of allegiance does <em> that </em>indicate, do you think?” he demanded. “A Deatheater’s?”</p><p>“What the fuck is <em> that?” </em>Bill Weasley asked, and a surge of whispering moved through the crowd, but Severus did not look at any of the onlookers. He only had eyes for Lupin until he backed down or it came to blows, and he rather hoped it was the latter. He was vibrating with unsatisfied violence. With anger at Harry for leaving, and at himself for… everything else. And at the Dark Lord of course, for whatever he was doing to Harry right at that moment.</p><p>“But… where’s your Mark?” Lupin asked, and finally, his wand dropped. “Whose - whose handprint is that?”</p><p>“Whose do you <em> think?” </em> Severus shot back, a trickle of bright red blood dripping down his wrist and pooling at the edge of the cuff. “Harry tore my Dark Mark right out of my arm. With his <em> bare hand.” </em></p><p>“Wow. That is way uglier than I thought it would be,” Ron said. “Damn.”</p><p>“Can I… put a new bandage on that please?” Hermione asked, and Severus handed his arm over. Lupin just watched with his mouth open as Hermione cradled Severus’ arm in one hand, and pointed her wand at it. <em> “Linteum!” </em>she said, and then smoothed the edges of the conjured cotton down.</p><p>“Is that even possible?” someone whispered from out in the crowd. <em> “Ripping out </em>a Dark Mark like that?”</p><p>“I dunno,” came an answer. “I don’t think so. But… it’s Harry, so…”</p><p>“Thank you,” Severus said, pulling his sleeve back over the fresh dressing. “Now, who can I help? If I’m not being <em> beheaded.” </em></p><p>“Come,” Minerva said, gesturing towards a row of badly mangled people. “There was an explosion, and Poppy only has so many hands.” Severus started to follow her, but then hesitated. He didn’t really care if Lupin thought he was <em> Deatheater scum </em> or not, but he’d be damned if he was going to go through with this terrible night without anyone knowing what he’d lost, and this might be the best moment. Particularly if he wanted an audience, which he certainly did. Let the whole world know by daybreak.</p><p>He turned back around.</p><p>“One more thing, Lupin,” he said, his voice clear and carrying even over the noise beginning to resume around them. “All secrets die tonight, so you listen to me. I turned from the Dark Lord the day the Potters were targeted, because Lily was my greatest friend. I loved her, and when the Dark Lord killed her and her husband, he lost my loyalty forever. But that isn’t what matters now, is it? Not to you.” He took a deep breath, sparing a glance for Charlie and Bill, Kingsley, Longbottom, Lovegood, Minerva, and the dozens of other people all listening raptly. “You heard the Dark Lord call for the head of Harry’s <em> lover, </em>did you not? Well.” He held out his arms. “Here he is.” </p><p>Whispers exploded around him, and out through the hall, and he heard his name repeated from every corner, and out of every mouth. </p><p>
  <em> Snape? Snape? How could it be Snape? </em>
</p><p>Some of them sounded confused, some amused, others alarmed and disgusted. </p><p>
  <em> Absurd. Ridiculous! It cannot be true. What madness, what lies, what nonsense. Harry Potter, in love with Severus Snape? Impossible. Insane. Ludicrous.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Wicked. Despicable. Wrong.  </em>
</p><p>He raised his voice over the clamor.</p><p>“I adore Harry Potter with every fiber of my body and soul,” he said. “I love him with my every breath, and my every word, and my every act. But the Dark Lord doesn’t want me dead just for that, oh no. He wants me dead because I’ve betrayed him so utterly that he has no recourse but impotent rage, and the hope that my own allies will turn against me. And let me tell you - when I stuck in the knife, I did not intend to live past it. I acted with <em> absolutely no hope of survival. </em> But Harry doesn’t know the meaning of <em> hopeless, </em>does he? He snatched me from the jaws of death without a moment to spare, and my life is his in every conceivable way.”</p><p>“Where is Harry, Professor Snape?” Luna asked, but Severus did not look at her, and it was Minerva who answered her question.</p><p>“Harry is on an assignment from Dumbledore, Miss Lovegood,” she said, her voice low. “Critically important.”</p><p>“Oh, is it the same one as before?” Luna asked, and Neville shushed her gently.</p><p>“Yes, that’s right,” Severus sneered. “He is, as always, shouldering an impossible burden for the good of us all, as has been expected of him since birth.” He turned his attention back on Lupin. “I know that you hate me,” he said. “And I do not begrudge you that. In some ways I find it quite justified. So let me offer you a compromise. If Harry doesn’t make it through this battle - if he never returns from Albus’ godforsaken errand - You can follow through with your every threat. <em> ‘Take care of me.’ ‘Put me in the ground.’ ‘Cut my throat.’” </em> He spread his hands. “As you like. But understand this: I belong to him.”</p><p>Lupin did not speak, though his tawny eyes flicked briefly over to Minerva, and then to Kingsley standing beside her, like he was hoping Severus might still be dragged outside and executed. </p><p>Well, that was fine. If a declaration wasn’t enough for him, Severus could do more. He could say more. There were anthologies inside him.</p><p>“I see that you still don’t believe me,” he continued. “Well, no matter. Truth does not require belief. But let me ask you something before you accuse me of lecherously pursuing a boy less than half my age for my own carnal satisfaction. Do you know what form Harry’s Patronus takes?”</p><p>That question seemed rather to startle Remus, as when he spoke he sounded more confused than angry. “Of course I do,” he said. “I taught him to cast it. In his third year.”</p><p>“His <em> third year?” </em> Lisa whispered. </p><p>“And what is it, praytell?” Severus asked. “Is it corporeal?”</p><p>“Of course it’s corporeal,” Remus answered, annoyed. “It’s a stag.”</p><p>“I’ve seen it!” Neville said.</p><p>“It’s <em> gorgeous,” </em>Luna agreed from beside him. </p><p>“A stag,” Severus echoed, and held out his wand. He called up the memory of Harry on his side in their little protective dome on the beach, drawing one fingertip down the bridge of Severus’ nose. <em> ‘I love you,’ </em> he’d said. That was enough. <em> “Expecto Patronum!” </em> </p><p>The silver doe burst out of his wand, and as she flew through the air, an intense silence rolled out across the room. </p><p><em> “Oh my God,” </em> Lisa hissed, covering her mouth. <em> “They’re soulmates.” </em></p><p>Every eye followed the Patronus as she returned at a canter and then slowed to a halt directly between Severus and Lupin. And there, she turned her head, and regarded Lupin steadily with her glossy, ethereal eyes. </p><p>“And, as you can see, mine is a doe,” Severus said softly. He held Remus’ gaze through the shimmer emanating from her sleek, silver coat. “I cannot live without him, Lupin.” He flicked his wand, and she vanished. “Nor do I care to try. I trust you can understand the sentiment.” </p><p>Lupin stared at the empty space where the doe had stood, opened and closed his mouth, swallowed, and then tried again.</p><p>“Do you-” his voice broke. “Do you know who killed my wife?” </p><p>So, Severus had indeed been correct as to the source of Lupin’s madness.</p><p>“I do not,” he answered, looking past him towards the bodies arranged along the wall. He wasn’t quite close enough to identify which one was hers. “Though if I were to hazard a guess… I would say Bellatrix Lestrange. The Dark Lord instructed her to prune the disease from her family tree. They were discussing your son.” He glanced back at Lupin’s face, contorted in hatred. It was a familiar expression. Severus had worn it once that night already, and would surely wear it again before the sun rose. If, indeed, it ever did. “I do plan on killing as many of them as I can, of course. And as horribly as possible. You might find me a complementary ally in the end, Lupin. If you’re interested in <em> violence.” </em> He turned away. “But for now I would prefer to occupy myself with healing.” </p><p>“The bracelet,” someone said from behind him, and he looked around to see that it was Bill Weasley addressing him. “It’s you,” Bill continued. “He’s - talking to you. With that bracelet he wears. He’s talking to you.” </p><p>Severus raised one eyebrow, and pulled back his sleeve. “Oh, yes,” he answered. “He talks to me every day. Just like this.” He touched his wand to the silver surface. “Harry,” he said. “I love you, and I trust you. And if you can come back to me, I know that you will.” He shrugged his sleeve back down. “Any other questions?”</p><p> </p><p>There were no other questions, and when Severus went to the wounded with his new Ravenclaw allies trotting after him, no one dared call out to him again, though many watched him go. Bill, Charlie, and Lupin in particular were standing quite still, and Ron and Hermione went to them, first. It would do no good to allow any lingering doubts to fester.</p><p>“We tried to tell you,” Hermione said gently, addressing Remus with her hands clasped. “Professor Snape… he really loves Harry. A lot.”</p><p>“Yeah, and Harry loves him <em> a lot,” </em> Ron added, looking at his brothers. “You saw him using the bracelet at Shell Cottage, Bill. You saw his face. And you remember that Christmas, too. When Harry was so sick. You told me what happened when he woke up. If you saw them together, you have to know. When they’re together it’s…”</p><p>“Obvious,” Hermione finished for him.</p><p>“Yeah,” Ron said. “Blindingly.”</p><p>“I did see them together, and he was wearing that bracelet then, too, but…” Bill trailed off with a frown. “Ron… you were all still in school. Harry was… still in school. He’d still be in school <em> now.” </em></p><p>“So what?” Ron asked, giving Hermione a squeeze beside him. “Harry never follows the rules. He just does whatever he wants even if it makes no fucking sense to anyone else. And you can’t argue with that bloody Patronus thing, can you?”</p><p>“I mean… it’s a legend…” Bill said slowly, looking at Charlie. “I don’t know what to think.”</p><p>“How about this,” Ron offered with an impatient wave. “They’re in love. He makes Harry happy. Simple.” </p><p>“You’re too young to understand why it’s wrong,” Lupin answered. “You just don’t understand.” Ron rounded on him.</p><p>“Too young, are we?” he demanded. “Too <em> young?” </em> He poked one finger into Lupin’s chest. “Then why the fuck are we <em> here, </em> huh? In fact, I want you to say that again, real slow, so you can hear your own <em> bullshit, </em>and then I want you to explain it to me.”</p><p>“Ron-” Bill broke in, but Ron just held up his hand.</p><p>“No,” he said. “I want to hear it. I want to hear why <em> Remus Lupin </em> thinks that Harry can die in this bloody war, but can’t decide who he sleeps next to.” He gave Remus a little push. “And you know what? Tell me this, too. If you’re so fucking concerned about my best mate, why didn’t you intervene while he was being <em> beaten </em> and <em> starved </em> in that muggle hell hole he called home, hm? He’s your best friend’s son, isn’t he? Surely you <em> gave a shit.” </em> He glanced at Hermione, but she looked just as pissed off as he felt, so he kept going. “You care about him? You want to protect him? Great. Me too. You know who else wants that?” He pointed at Snape where he was kneeling down with McGonagall beside a wounded boy. “That man right there.”</p><p>“But-”</p><p>“NO,” Ron repeated. “No more. That’s it. End of story.” He pointed into Lupin’s face. “And if something happens to Harry you better keep your fucking threats to yourself, understand? Snape saved my life. He saved Hermione. He kept my sister from the Carrows. And he’s saved Harry more times than I can count. So. Keep it under control, yeah?”</p><p>“What about George?” Bill asked. “What about his ear?”</p><p>“He missed,” Hermione said. “He was aiming for a Deatheater.”</p><p>“Did <em> Snape </em>tell you that?” Lupin demanded.</p><p>“Yeah, he did,” Ron answered hotly. “He told us a lot of things while he was keeping us from <em> starving to death out in the forest. </em> And look, I’m not happy about George getting hurt, and I never said Snape was perfect. I just said not to try to fucking <em> kill him.” </em>He gave Lupin a disgusted look. “Bar’s on the floor there, innit?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“So, am I dead? Or what?” Harry asked. He was sitting cross-legged on the grass before Dumbledore, having heard a very long and involved explanation of pretty much everything except for whether or not he was dead. </p><p>“I don’t think so, no,” Albus answered. “Though I imagine that, if you did not care to return, you might, for example, seek out that charming river I can hear in the distance and let it carry you away.”</p><p>“What?” Harry asked, a little appalled despite his earlier conviction that he was totally ready to die. “To where?”</p><p>“Oh, just… onward.” Dumbledore smiled in his enigmatic way, and moved his hand like a fish. It was healthy and whole, as it had been before his run-in with Marvolo Gaunt’s ring. “To the next adventure.”</p><p>“Great. More adventure,” Harry muttered, and picked a blade of grass, rolling it between his fingers. “But if I’m not dead, or I can decide or whatever, what happened? I didn’t fight at all. Voldemort hit me right in the chest with the killing curse. What’s the deal?”</p><p>Albus tapped one finger against his lips like he was thinking hard, and when he spoke it was, as usual, tangentially related to the question at best.“When I tasked Severus with killing me,” he began. “I meant to transfer the Elder Wand to him without defeat. I meant it’s power to die with me.”</p><p>“Well, whoops,” Harry said snidely, but Dumbledore did not respond to his sarcasm. Maybe immunity to offense was part of being dead. </p><p>“Indeed. It did not occur to me that I might be in such a weakened state at the critical moment that Draco Malfoy would be capable of disarming me. An old man’s foolish arrogance.”</p><p>“Yeah, you were pretty weakened. That was a fucked up thing to make me do, by the way. Making me force-feed you that stuff.” Harry shivered. “I still have nightmares about it.”</p><p>“My apologies.”</p><p>“That wasn’t even a Horcrux.”</p><p>Albus started to speak, but then stopped short, squinting at Harry from above his half-moon spectacles. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, and Harry leaned back on his hands and blew his bangs off of his forehead.</p><p>“It was a <em> fake,” </em>he said. “Sirius’ brother got the real one. Regulus Arcturus Black. He stole it ages ago and gave it to Kreacher to get rid of. But Kreacher couldn’t destroy it, so he kept it in his cupboard in Grimmauld Place. It was there the whole time the Order was there, and then after Sirius died, Mundungus stole it and gave it to Umbridge as a bribe, and I had to break into the bloody Ministry to steal it back.”</p><p>“That is… unfortunately complicated.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, anyway,” Harry continued, annoyed. “Draco disarmed you, and then a gross rapey Deatheater disarmed <em> him, </em> and then Severus killed that guy. So.”</p><p>“Severus is the master of the wand.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Albus looked down at him, his blue eyes piercing. “And why might that matter, Harry?” he asked, and Harry glared at him. </p><p>“Let me ask you something before I buy into the mind games, <em> Albus. </em> Are you real, or are you in my head?”</p><p>“Well, I’m in your head, of course,” Dumbledore answered serenely. “But why on earth should that mean that I’m not real?”</p><p>“Oh my fucking <em> God,” </em> Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. “Fine. If you’re really my subconscious or my imagination or something, let me just take a wild guess.” He scowled out into the familiar tangle of his magic, and his expression softened. Even while it was the wasteland, this place had soothed him. But now, it was a paradise. The verdant leaves, dripping with condensation. The vines climbing the lush trees. The exotic, fragrant flowers that he loved so much, expelling their perfume into the humid air. It was his haven. His sanctuary. The safe place Severus had taught him to find. The eden that had sprung into being inside him the moment Severus came back - <em> really </em>came back. </p><p>The moment he found out who Severus was, and who they were to each other.</p><p>“I’m not dead because Voldemort’s wand belongs to Severus, and Severus is my soulmate,” Harry said. “Am I close?” Albus nodded. “So, the wand doesn’t want to hurt me, the way Severus doesn’t want to hurt me. Which he <em> doesn’t, </em>by the way. Not that you care. You great prick.” Albus just nodded again. “So…” Harry trailed off, frowning at a blue butterfly flitting over his head. “Um…”</p><p>“So, when Tom Riddle cast the killing curse on you, the magic rebelled,” Albus supplied. “It killed the only thing inside you that was not you.”</p><p><em> “What?” </em> Harry demanded, agast. “The <em> fragment? </em> Are you kidding me? What kind of fucking plan is <em> that?” </em></p><p>“No plan. Just a wonderful happenstance.”</p><p>“So, what? You really expected me to die?” </p><p>“I did.”</p><p>Harry just stared at him for a moment, and then scoffed. “Well, fuck you again, then. I mean honestly. You are absolutely the worst Headmaster I have ever - ” He gasped as warmth suddenly tingled into his wrist. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been wearing the bracelet when he woke up, but it was certainly there now. And though he’d never received a message inside his magic before, he’d never had a dead visitor in his magic before, either. Lots of firsts, that day. </p><p><em> [Harry] </em> appeared, the script sparkling in the filtered sunlight, and a strange, fluttering sort of sensation appeared in Harry’s chest. Funny, he hadn’t been aware of his heart beating at all until right then. <em> [I love you, and I trust you. And if you can come back to me, I know that you will]  </em></p><p>“And what does he say?” Albus asked, picking a bit of chaff off the hem of his extravagant robes. </p><p>“He says he loves me,” Harry answered, and looked up. “I gotta go.”</p><p>“I’m sure that you do.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The first thing Harry felt when he returned to his body was a pair of dainty hands on his chest, <em> inside his shirt. </em>And that, he thought, was very forward. They felt like a woman’s hands, too, which was bizarre. The only person that had touched his naked skin for the last age was Severus, and his hands felt absolutely nothing like that. </p><p>
  <em> Who is touching me? </em>
</p><p>There was a tickle of long hair, and then a warm puff of breath on his face. </p><p>
  <em> Who in bloody hell is touching me? Ick.  </em>
</p><p>“He’s dead!” a woman shouted, and a roar of triumph rose up in response.</p><p><em> Pff, </em> Harry though. <em> Who is that, Draco’s mum? Voldemort really doesn’t keep his ranks as tight as he thinks.  </em></p><p>Flashes of light penetrated his closed eyelids as the crowd of Deatheaters shot a flurry of spells into the night sky, shouting and stomping their feet in celebration. </p><p>
  <em> Oh, hooray, Harry Potter is definitely dead and not at all going to destroy us. No need to check his pulse, Narcissa Malfoy says he’s dead, and she would never betray the man that sentenced her son to brutal rape. Of course not. Why would she do that? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fucking morons.  </em>
</p><p>He stayed very still. </p><p>“You see?” Voldmemort screeched over the tumult. “Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now!” Another roar. “Watch! <em> Crucio!” </em></p><p>That, Harry was expecting. There was no way someone like Voldemort would just leave his body alone. He would need to prove to his followers that Harry James Potter was no more dangerous than a ragdoll. But the curse didn’t do anything to him. Not anything at all. There was no pain, no tingle of magic, no heat, no cold, no nothing. It was like Voldemort had just pointed a stick at him.</p><p>Severus’ wand probably wouldn’t even give him a hangnail at this point. If Dumbledore’s pseudo-ghost was to be believed, anyway. But Voldemort did not seem disturbed by the failure of his spell. Harry supposed the <em> cruciatus </em>didn’t work on dead bodies. </p><p>“Where’s your foul attitude now, Potter? <em> CRUCIO!” </em>the Dark Lord cried, and the Deatheaters jeered and laughed on all sides. </p><p><em> Foul? Rude. My attitude is fantastic, </em> Harry thought. <em> Maybe I should try to get Severus to call me. That would be great. Just disappear right off the ground. Poof! Dark Lord would probably wet himself. </em></p><p>He almost laughed. </p><p>He felt a little better than he had on the way to the clearing, actually. Not good, exactly, but not nearly so depleted. It was almost like going into his magic had restored some of his energy, somehow. Or maybe that was just relief. Because he was alive, and that meant that he could go home.</p><p>Voldemort just had to die, first. </p><p>Maybe he could just explode the whole lot of them right now, like he’d done in the Shrieking Shack. No way would Voldemort survive that a second time. Not now that his parasitic soul shard had been purged out of Harry’s body. No more Horcruxes, no more immortality.</p><p>Stupid shitbag didn’t even have his own wand.</p><p>“NOW!” Voldemort continued. “We go to the castle and show them what has become of their <em> little hero. </em> Who shall drag the body?” A rabble of discussion.</p><p>
  <em> Aw, fuck. Don’t drag me. </em>
</p><p>“No - Wait - Halfbreed! <em> You </em> carry him!” Voldemort suddenly cried. “Yes, you! Careful, now. If you mangle him he won’t be recognizable. I want him <em> seen.” </em></p><p>The Deatheaters roared with laughter again, and Harry stayed as limp as a wet dishrag as the ground underneath him started to tremble. For a moment he wondered if a Giant was about to pick him up, but then the thunderous footsteps were joined by great, heaving sobs, and he understood. It wasn’t a Giant, it was Hagrid. The Dark Lord was going to make <em> Hagrid </em> carry him, and that was... mean.</p><p>He’d almost forgotten that Hagrid was there, and as Hagrid’s huge hands very gently coaxed him up off of the dirt, and fat tears began to spatter down onto him, Harry realized that he certainly could not just vanish from the clearing, or explode it. Not without getting Hagrid out of there first. He had to get Hagrid back onto friendly ground - and Draco’s mum, too. Once they were in view of the others, though… Once he’d been carried back to the castle… <em> then </em> he could rustle up some chaos. </p><p>Some fucking <em> havoc. </em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Havoc</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: VIOLENCE</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“One more, Mr. Thomas,” Severus said. He had one of Dean Thomas’ hands clamped tight in his own, and was on his fourth layer of complex charmwork. Dean had been seared to the bone by a misfired <em> Squarrosis Curse, </em> and was still unable to move his fingers more than a twitch. “Deep breath. <em> Interdum Revocandosa,” </em>Severus continued, and Dean let out a little cry, his arm tensing up against Severus’ grip. “That would be your nerves attempting to reconnect,” Severus continued, manipulating his wand over his new skin like he was drizzling honey from a spoon. “The pain is a good sign, though you may need to cast with your left until we can get you to St. Mu-” He stopped, and looked around. </p><p>“What?” Dean asked at once, following his gaze with a twitch of fear. “What is it?”</p><p>“Quiet.” Severus held up one finger. </p><p>What <em> had </em> caught his attention? He listened hard, waiting, staying perfectly still, and then he heard it again. It was a little tinkling noise, barely audible over the other sounds in the room, and for a moment he could not figure out what about it had alarmed him. But then he noticed a sensation - a vibration under his feet - and he understood. That sound was the rattling of broken glass in the window panes above him, and that vibration in the floor was either a distant earthquake, or the rumble of… many feet. </p><p>“Minerva!” he called. “We need to move the wounded! Now!”</p><p> </p><p>They evacuated anyone unable or unwilling to fight out into the middle courtyard, and then assembled back in the Great Hall. And there, Minerva addressed their ragged band of soldiers. It was something about bravery and defending the helpless and fighting for what was right, but Severus wasn’t listening. He was looking out into the darkness of the grounds, waiting for the light spilling from the castle windows to reveal the Dark Lord’s forces. But the first visible figure was not the Dark Lord, or any of the Deatheaters. </p><p>It was… Hagrid. </p><p>And his head was bowed. </p><p>“Is that Hagrid?” Hermione asked from his elbow. “Are they going to try to ransom him or something?” Severus did not speak. “Professor McGonagall!” she cried over her shoulder. “They have Hagrid! We have to do something!” </p><p>There was a rabble of indignant and fearful chatter from behind him, and when people started pouring out of the entryway and into the grounds, Hermione took hold of his sleeve. </p><p>And then somehow he was outside, in a great sea of people. Like turning the page of a book. Just… suddenly outside. Hm. </p><p>He stood still in the crowd, waiting for someone to scream. He didn’t think it would be him. He didn’t think the scream inside him would come out just yet. And so, in the end, it was Minerva who first seemed to understand what it was they were seeing, and she did, indeed, scream. </p><p>“NO!” </p><p>It was a terrible sound to come out of someone so usually reserved, and in its echo, many heads turned, and still more people spilled out into the grounds. Severus was jostled this way and that by the figures around him, but he didn’t feel it.</p><p>“Is that-?”</p><p>“Harry! HARRY!”</p><p>“No - Harry - <em> no!” </em></p><p>“It can’t be!”</p><p>“YOU BASTARDS!”</p><p>It was a barrage of sound. Every survivor that could stand, hurling their grief and hatred at the approaching army. But Severus did not shout. Severus just stood there as the tumult washed over him, staring out at the Deatheaters, and the Snatchers, and the Giants, and Werewolves, and Dementors, and Acromantulas, all emerging out of the night. And staring, quite blind, at Hagrid, with Harry in his arms. </p><p>Harry’s… body. In his arms.</p><p> </p><p>Severus could not speak.</p><p>He could not move.</p><p>He could not even breathe.</p><p> </p><p>Harry was dead.</p><p> </p><p>“SILENCE!” Voldemort cried, and there was a bang, and a flash, and their voices were muffled. He began to stride back and forth in front of Hagrid with his terrible burden, his face alight with victory. “Do you see, now, you believers? Harry Potter is dead! Dead and broken!”</p><p> </p><p>Harry looked so tiny in Hagrid’s gigantic hands. So delicate, as he was laid reverently on the ground. He was just a boy, after all. Not immortal. Not infallible. Not unbreakable. Not a saint, or a god, or a supernatural creature.</p><p>Just a boy.</p><p> </p><p>Severus felt himself sway with weakness. </p><p>He was going to fall. He was. </p><p> </p><p>But then, just as he felt a tingling numbness creeping up his legs, a hand touched him. No, two hands. One on his left, resting on his shoulder, and one on his right, seeking out his own, and for a moment he could not imagine who they might belong to. Who could possibly want to touch him, now? Someone like him, who had failed so utterly? Someone so useless, so worthless, so <em> pathetic - </em> so hideously despicable as to have <em> allowed - </em></p><p>The hands tightened on him at almost the same moment, and with their synchrony, he suddenly knew. They belonged to Harry’s friends, of course, held in silence on either side of him. Harry’s companions, the only two other people on earth who could share his overwhelming grief. </p><p>And at their touch, he found that he was sharing it. And in sharing it, it lessened just enough to allow him to keep his feet. </p><p>And so he stayed standing, and he squeezed Hermione’s hand, and she squeezed back.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you understand, now, deluded ones?” Voldemort continued. “How foolish you have been to turn away from me for this <em> child? </em> To put your faith in someone so weak!”</p><p><em> Lies, </em> Severus thought. <em> Lies. </em></p><p>“He was never anything but a pampered boy, who relied on others to sacrifice themselves on his behalf!”</p><p>
  <em> Lies. Lies. Lies. How can he spit such LIES? </em>
</p><p>“My Deatheaters captured him trying to sneak out of the castle grounds to save his own life! A pathetic deserter. He left you!”</p><p>
  <em> LIES. LIES. </em>
</p><p>“LIES!” It took a moment for Severus to realize that the word had actually made it out of his mouth. The Dark Lord’s silencing charm did not seem able to hold him. “LIES! FILTHY LIES!” he cried, and Ron’s hand clamped down hard on his shoulder, and Hermione’s went rigid, and they found their voices, too.</p><p>“HARRY WOULD NEVER!” </p><p>“YOU'RE THE PATHETIC ONE!!” </p><p>And sound exploded from around and behind them, tearing through the pinhole Severus’ voice had made in the Dark Lord’s magic. The shouting and screaming returned - doubling - <em> compounding </em> in a flood of fury and rage. The defenders of Hogwarts, bursting with anger that the Dark Lord would dare speak of Harry in such a way. That he would dare cast aspersions on their champion. Harry? <em> WEAK? </em></p><p>“HE BEAT YOU!”</p><p>“DEATHEATER SCUM!”</p><p>“HARRY BURNED YOU!”</p><p>“BURNED YOUR FACE!”</p><p>“PATHETIC!”</p><p> </p><p>“SILENCE!” the Dark Lord barked, and it was like a hand clapped over their mouths. “Silence. Who dares speak first?” He made a show of scanning the faces of Harry’s supporters. “Is it the Mudblood and Blood-traitor allies of our fallen hero? And, oh…” He let out a disgusting chuckle. “Can it be? The honorable pederast, Severus Snape. Step forward, rebels.” He flicked his wand and Severus felt himself tugged out of the crowd by an invisible force, and beside him, Ron and Hermione staggered forward in kind. The three of them, singled out, to serve as warnings to the others.</p><p>Severus glanced over at Hermione on his right as they were pulled along, and saw that, though she was chalk-white, her face was set in lines of fury. And on his left, Ron looked so incredibly murderous that there was no fear in his expression at all. At first Severus was a little surprised, but then he thought better of it. Of course Harry’s friends were standing strong. Of course they were ready to die. Wasn’t he?</p><p>They were his family, weren’t they?</p><p>“We fight,” Severus hissed, and as the words passed his lips, he realized that he could already speak again. That was interesting. He’d never known the Dark Lord’s spells to be so weak. Perhaps it was Harry’s sacrifice, eating away at the magic. His fearlessness in the face of death, acting as a charm on the entire school, the way Lily had protected Harry all those years ago. Maybe her protection had stacked, now. Two generations of precious martyrs, torn from the hands of their loved ones at the height of golden youth.</p><p>
  <em> Two generations.  </em>
</p><p>At that terrible thought, the rage that had been simmering inside him began to boil to the surface, frothing over his grief like an unattended poison. Obscuring it. <em>Eclipsing it. </em>There was no room inside him for both emotions, they were both too huge, and right then, the fury took precedence. For if the Dark Lord really believed that he could kill Harry and walk away, he was sorely mistaken. Severus was going to tear him apart.</p><p>“Come weep for your <em> lover, </em> Severus,” Voldemort purred, and from beside him Bellatrix cackled in merriment, and Severus spared a thought for who would get to kill <em> her. </em> Maybe he could do that, too. Or at the very least make her scream. “One last kiss for your precious boy before I have your head. Pity he cannot watch your destruction the way I’d planned.” Voldemort cast his eyes towards Ron and Hermione. “And you two. Did our innocent Potter have more than one paramour, perhaps? Might you like to kiss him as well? Before he gets too <em> cold.” </em></p><p>There was a rustle of movement behind them, and a shout.</p><p>“FUCK YOU!” The Dark Lord turned his head to see Neville Longbottom raise his fist in the air. “WE STAND TOGETHER!” he shouted. “DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY!” </p><p>“Impatient, are we? <em> Avada Kedavra!” </em> A jet of green light streaked from the Dark Lord’s wand directly at Neville, but it never reached him. It hit something - some invisible barrier - and deflected into the sky. <em> “What-” </em></p><p>And then many things happened all at once. </p><p>Everyone looked up at the blocked curse, Severus cast <em> protego </em> in front of Ron and Hermione, there was an almighty war cry from the edge of the grounds, and a flurry of arrows flew out of the forest. </p><p>And Severus’ bracelet warmed on his wrist.</p><p>He looked down.</p><p>
  <em> [Alive] </em>
</p><p>He looked back up.</p><p>Harry’s body was gone. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“THERE!” Draco cried, pelting through the grounds ahead of the mass of people still swarming over the boundary walls. He had no idea who most of them were, but they seemed to be the extended family and friends of every single Hogwarts student. And possibly some Governors. And certainly most of the residents of Hogsmeade. “AIM TO KILL!”</p><p>“Are those Giants?” Rosmerta gasped from beside him, and as she slowed in shock, Draco took hold of her arm. “And - centaurs?”</p><p>“COME ON!” he shouted at her, pulling her along. “We FIGHT!”</p><p>An old man sprinted past them to take point. “LIVE BY THE SWORD!” he bellowed. “DIE BY THE SWORD!” </p><p>Draco didn’t recognize him, but he had dark skin, and a white beard, and he did, indeed, seem to have a sword. Which he brandished.</p><p>“AAAARRRROOOOOOOOOOOO!”</p><p>Whose fucking grandpa was<em> that? </em></p><p>He sped up.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus spun in a circle as people and creatures scattered in all directions under the rain of arrows. “HARRY?” he called. “HARRY? WHERE ARE YOU?” He couldn’t see Harry anywhere. He must be under the <em> cloak. </em> “HARRY!”</p><p>“What are you <em> doing?” </em> Ron demanded. <em> “Protego! </em> Sweet Merlin, Snape! You almost got - Oh SHIT!” He seized the back of Severus' shirt with a scream of terror, dragging him backwards as a pair of gigantic Acrumantula scurried past, pursued by Buckbeak and a trio of thestrals. “Hermione! Get back! Fucking <em> spiders- </em>”</p><p>“HARRY! <em> HARRY!” </em></p><p><em> “Diffindo!” </em>Hermione blasted a charging Deatheater off of his feet, turned her head, and shrieked. “Ron! DUCK!”</p><p>Ron looked up and immediately tackled Severus to the ground as an entire uprooted tree flew over the three of them and struck one of the enraged giants in the chest. It howled in fury, apparently unhurt, and took up the tree like a club. </p><p>“Get OFF! Harry’s <em> ALIVE. GET OFF!” </em> Severus shoved Ron away and leapt back to his feet. If Harry was out here he was going to get fucking <em> crushed by something. </em> The Giants had turned on eachother, and war-bolts were falling like deadly hail all around him, and people were flooding in on all sides. Who were all these <em> people? </em>And where in God’s name was Harry?</p><p>He called out in desperation as absolutely everyone, Deatheater and defender alike, was driven back towards the front doors. “HARRY!”</p><p>“SNAPE! C’MON!”</p><p>“But-” </p><p>“YOU WON’T FIND HIM IF YOU GET TRAMPLED TO DEATH!” Ron screamed into his face. “COME ON!” </p><p>They ran for the doors.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>In the chaos of the Great Hall, Draco fired jinxes off on all sides, desperately searching the sea of people and centaurs for a flash of blonde. He had to find his mother. If she was still alive, he had to find her, stay with her, and then find Harry or Snape, and just… try not to die, or let any of them die. But it seemed impossible - he couldn’t see anyone he needed - and there were just so many fucking <em> people. </em> </p><p>Maybe he should try to get away from the edge and - </p><p>He jumped back with a cry as a flood of cleaver-wielding house-elves poured out of a side-door and started hacking at the legs of every Deatheater they could see. There must have been <em> fifty. </em>“Wait, No!” he screamed. “I’M ON YOUR SIDE! I’m-”</p><p>“FIGHT!” Kreacher howled, brandishing a kitchen knife in each gnarled hand. “FIGHT FOR MY MASTER, THE DEFENDER OF HOUSE-ELVES! FIGHT FOR MASTER POTTER! <em> KILL!!” </em></p><p>“Holy FUCK!” Draco leapt up away from them and onto the first thing he could reach. It was warm, and breathing, and covered in short black hair, and he shrieked in horror.</p><p>“HUMAN!!!” Bane bellowed, tossing his head. “YOU DARE?”</p><p>“Sorry!” Draco gasped. “I’m sorry! Almost got - stabbed in the ankle!”</p><p>“DISMOUNT ME OR DIE!”</p><p>“I’m off! I’m off! I’m s - ” </p><p>“DRACO!”</p><p>Draco whipped around and was immediately seized by the front of his robes and jerked out of the way of a pair of Deatheaters dueling back to back. And there was only one person that handled him like <em> that. </em></p><p>“Snape! Fucking hell.”</p><p>“What are you doing here?” Severus demanded. “I told you to run!”</p><p>“I brought - reinforcements-”</p><p>“That was <em> you?” </em></p><p>“OI! MALFOY!” Ron shouted, shooting defensive spells into the melee with Hermione by his side. “You seen Harry?”</p><p>“Harry? No, I - ”</p><p>“DEATHEATER!” Bane howled, wheeling around and drawing his bow.</p><p>“SNAPE!” Hermione screamed, and Severus looked up. <em> “PROTE-” </em></p><p>The air was punched from his lungs.</p><p>“Blast!” Bane growled, knocking another arrow, but before he could let it loose he was thrown backwards, right off his feet, crushing a screaming Pius Thicknesse beneath his weight.</p><p>“SEVERUS!”</p><p>Severus blinked. He knew that voice. That was <em> his </em>voice.</p><p>“Harry?” he asked, and tried to turn to look for him, but he couldn’t move, and for a moment he did not understand why. But then Harry’s green eyes appeared before him, and Harry’s hands touched him, and at their touch he suddenly became aware of the fact that he was pinned to the wall by an arrow.</p><p>“Cover me!” Harry gasped. “Guys! Cover me!” Draco, Ron, and Hermione closed ranks around them, their wands drawn to the bedlam. “Severus, Jesus.” His hands hovered and danced over the fletching like he was afraid to touch it.</p><p>“You’re alive,” Severus said. “You’re - alive - right? I’m not-”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m alive,” Harry answered shortly. “Should I try to pull it out, or…?”</p><p>Severus tore his gaze away from Harry’s eyes with difficulty, and looked down at the arrow protruding from his body. It seemed to have struck him through the shoulder. Nonfatal. That must be why the centaur tried to fire again. </p><p>“Oh,” he said. “Yes. Go on, pull it-” he broke off with a scream of pain.</p><p>“Sorry!” Harry squealed. “Sorry! I think it’s stuck!”</p><p>“Harry! Yank it out!” Ron demanded. “Hurry!” He fired a pair of jinxes, spilling a masked Deatheater onto his back and incapacitating him with a full body-bind, and Hagrid, swinging his pink umbrella like a broadsword, stepped on him. </p><p>“Don’t <em> yank it,” </em> Draco gasped. “Fucking hell, Weasley, want him to bleed to death?”</p><p>“Just -” Hermione started, but then she saw something. “Oh no! LUNA!” She pelted off into the battle.</p><p>“Hermione, NO!” Ron called, and hurtled after her, and Harry turned to look at them run, and at Draco standing alone, and then back at Severus, his eyes wide.</p><p>“Vanish it,” Severus said. “Harry. Vanish it.” </p><p>“Yes, Sir,” Harry breathed, and closed his fingers over the wooden shaft. “Um…”</p><p>“DRACO? DRACO!”</p><p>“MOTHER!”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p><em> “Reducto!” </em> Remus cried, sliding under one of the house tables at a run and sprinting out the other side. <em> “CONFRINGO!” </em>That Deatheater didn’t even have time to scream as a hole was blown in his belly, and that made five. Five dead Deatheaters. Who else? He looked around, and then jumped back from a clot of cackling house-elves, watching in a mixture of horror and delight as they swarmed over Yaxley like piranhas and started hacking at him.</p><p>“Die die die!” one squeaked. </p><p>“Die, Deatheater, die!”</p><p>Yaxley fell to his knees, trying desperately to bat them away, but more only clambered up onto him, wielding hatchets and skewers and meat-forks and knives. </p><p>“AHA!” One of the elves croaked, and took a flying leap from the top of Yaxley’s head onto the back of another Deatheater passing by too closely. Scrambling to his shoulder like some sort of nightmare opossum, he stuck a knife into one of the eye-holes of his mask. “DIE!!”</p><p>“My God,” Lupin muttered, turning away as the Deatheater flailed his way to the floor. He needed to focus. Where was Bellatrix? That was who he wanted. He wanted Bellatrix Lestrange’s <em> head. </em>Where was she? </p><p>He spun around, searching for a glimpse of her mane of wild curls, or a snatch of her insane laughter, but something else caught his eye. It was a streak of long blonde hair flying behind a woman. Bellatrix’s sister, sprinting through the fray, calling for her son. </p><p>She didn’t even seem to be armed. That would do nicely.</p><p>“DRACO? DRACO!” Narcissa called, and he followed her gaze to see Draco Malfoy standing alone, firing jinxes into the battle. And behind him, there was a black haired boy embracing a black haired man up against the wall. </p><p>Was that… <em> Harry? </em></p><p>“MOTHER!” Draco shouted, turning his head, and Lupin took off towards them.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, fuck, that’s a lot of blood-” Harry gasped as Severus cried out and sagged against the wall. “Hang on - let me just-” He pressed his palm over the wound, and there was a sort of fizzing noise, and Severus dug his forehead into Harry’s shoulder with a truly awful scream. “Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry! I’ve never healed anything before!”</p><p>“I think - you - cauterized it,” Severus grunted back, lifting his head. “It’s fine. It’s - It’s fine.” </p><p><em> “Malfoy! Get back from him!” </em> Lupin roared, and Harry looked over his shoulder to see Draco whirl around and fling out his arms to protect his mother. <em> “Get back!” </em></p><p>“Lupin, no!” Harry cried. </p><p>“Professor Lupin!” Draco gasped. “I’m with Harry! I’m with Harry! Please-” Lupin knocked him aside to get at Narcissa.</p><p>“Did your sister murder my wife?” he demanded, grabbing the front of her robes and pointing his wand into her face. “DID SHE?”</p><p>“Don’t touch my mother!!”</p><p>“Y-yes,” Narcissa answered.</p><p>“WHERE IS SHE?”</p><p>“T-there.” Narcissa pointed into the far side of the room, and everyone looked around to see Bellatrix, cackling wildly and dancing from side to side, dueling Luna, Hermione and Ron, and looking like she was having the time of her life. And a little way beyond her was the Dark Lord, surrounded by McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley with a sneer of concentration on his face. Lupin did not seem concerned with the Dark Lord, though.</p><p>“YOU KILLED MY WIFE YOU BITCH!” he howled, and hurtled away.</p><p>“We have to stop this,” Harry said, turning back to Severus. “Can you fight?”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus answered, and drew his wand with a grimace of pain. “I can fight.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ooh,” Bellatrix cooed at the sight of Remus running towards her. “The widower. How <em> SWEET!” </em> A streak of green light shot from her wand and Lupin dove aside, countering with a spray of orange flames that only narrowly missed Percy and Arthur Weasley where they were taking down Walden Macnair. Hermione cast a shield charm over them as Ron aimed a stunning spell at Bellatrix, but she deflected it easily with a shriek of insane joy and aimed another killing curse, this time at Luna, who was only just jerked out of harm’s way by Draco.</p><p><em> “Expelliarmus!” </em>he cried, and Bellatrix turned on him, her eyes wild.</p><p>“My dear <em> nephew! </em> Grown some bollocks after all? Have some <em> pain!” </em></p><p><em> “Protego!” </em>Hermione yelped, and then Ron’s voice joined hers.</p><p>
  <em> “Diffindo!”  </em>
</p><p>And then Remus, screaming in berserker rage. <em> “CRUCIO!”  </em></p><p>But it was Severus who hit her. From behind, with a severing charm. It struck her right in the legs, and she shrieked in agony as the tendons in her knees were sliced clean through, and in her shock and pain she was unable to block Lupin’s disarm.</p><p><em> “Traitor!” </em> she squealed as her wand flew from her hand. <em> “TRAITOR!” </em> </p><p>Voldemort turned from his opponents at the sound of her voice, and it was the sight of her on the floor and Severus on his feet that did it. He <em> exploded </em>in fury, and McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn were blasted backwards and off of their feet. </p><p><em> “YOU!” </em> he howled, pointing his wand at Severus’ head. <em> “AVADA KEDAVRA!” </em></p><p>
  <em> CRACK! </em>
</p><p>A sphere of light burst into life around Severus’ body, and Voldemort shrieked in rage as the killing curse struck it with an explosion of gold sparks. </p><p>“Who DARES - ” he began, but a sudden barrage of noise drowned him out as the defenders of Hogwarts seemed to realize all at once what it was they were seeing. Harry? <em>Harry Potter?</em> Alive, and standing, and unhurt? He’s right there! Look! A <em>miracle! </em></p><p>But then, just as abruptly as the cacophony of cheering had arisen, it fell into a shocked silence.</p><p><em> Was </em>that Harry? It had to be. But if it was, what in Merlin’s name did that mean?</p><p>They’d seen his <em> body, </em>hadn’t they? Hagrid has been weeping, hadn't he?</p><p>And did he just…<em> block the killing curse? </em> </p><p>“Kill him, my Lord!” Bellatrix sobbed into the silence, crumpled where she’d fallen in a growing puddle of blood. “Kill them all!”</p><p>“Finish that, Lupin,” Severus hissed from inside his golden bubble, and the Dark Lord turned his wand on Harry, and then back on Severus, and back to Harry, so visibly startled by the sudden appearance of a reanimated Harry Potter that it was almost comical.</p><p>“With pleasure,” Lupin snarled.</p><p>“My Lord! <em> Please-” </em>Bellatrix squealed, and Lupin raised his wand, and Voldemort twitched in agitation, releasing a streak of green towards Bellatrix’ attacker. But that one was no good, either. Harry deflected it upward, and then blocked the chunk of stone that fell from the ceiling to keep it from hitting anyone.</p><p><em> “Sanguinem Crepitus!” </em>Lupin barked, and with a strangely harmless popping sound, blood erupted from Bellatrix’s mouth in a grotesque geyser, and she toppled over. </p><p>“BELLA! NO!” Voldemort howled, and then turned on Harry with his teeth bared in a murderous snarl. <em> “POTTER!” </em></p><p>“Ooh,” Harry said. “Hi.” He was standing alone, and Ron and Hermione rushed forward at once to join him, but he twitched his fingers and they stopped short like they’d hit a wall. “No,” he said. “Stay back. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”</p><p>“What trickery is this?” the Dark Lord demanded, his eyes flicking from Harry’s friends, to his empty hands, and to Severus in his luminescent cage.</p><p>“No trick,” Harry answered evenly. “I don’t really use a wand.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers, and then dropped them again. “Oh, wait. You meant the not being dead thing, didn’t you?” He shrugged. “Faulty killing curse, I s’pose.”</p><p>Severus gave a single bark of laughter from inside his magical protection. </p><p><em> “Faulty?” </em> Voldemort screeched. <em> “Avada Kedavra!”  </em></p><p>“No,” Harry said again, and the green light crackled into nothing a handspan from his chest. Someone in the crowd gasped. “You know, I’m kind of disappointed. I thought you’d be smart enough to figure this out by now, seeing as you hit me right in the heart back in the clearing, and here I am back to plague you. The Boy Who Lived.” He raised his arms as if to display himself for inspection. “Again.” </p><p>“Such defiance!” Voldemort hissed, and Harry could hear the uncertainty in his voice very clearly. “I have laid your supporters low, Potter. I have killed your allies, your friends, your <em> family.” </em></p><p>“Not me, though.” Harry dismissed the protective sphere around Severus and moved to stand beside him. “And not Severus, either. That wand you’ve got isn’t yours, and you know it.” </p><p>“That means nothing!” Voldemort sneered. “Nothing!”</p><p>“Oh, you’re really making him angry,” Severus murmured, resting one hand on the small of Harry’s back. “Say something else.”</p><p>“Actually, you know what?” Harry continued, leaning a little into Severus’ touch. “You’re right. The allegiance of the Elder Wand doesn’t mean anything, anymore. That only mattered back in the clearing when I wasn’t fighting back. Now all that matters is the fact that I can block the killing curse.” That time, Voldemort’s <em> avada kedavra </em>only made it about six inches from his wand before winking out, and a ripple of whispers rustled through the onlookers. “Draco told me that’s supposed to be impossible.” He raised his eyebrows. “Pretty weird.”</p><p>Out in the crowd, someone started to cackle, and though Harry did not look around, he was pretty sure it was Draco. It sounded like him, anyway. Just <em> cackling.  </em></p><p>“That wand belongs to Severus,” Harry continued. “And you knew that. You tried to kill him for it. So tell me this. You’re supposed to be an expert in magic, right? How could you possibly think something that serves Severus Snape could be used against me?”</p><p>“Is this some nonsense of Dumbledore’s?” Voldemort demanded, taking a step back. “The power of <em> love?” </em></p><p>Harry rolled his eyes. “You say that like it’s bullshit, but it’s obviously not.” He looked up at Severus beside him, and just as he took his eyes off the Dark Lord, another killing curse flew at him. Apparently Voldemort was hoping to catch him unawares, but it broke apart like a sparkler hitting a plate-glass window, and so did the next three curses he tried. Some sort of fiery whip, a volley of silver daggers, and a blasting jinx, each shattered to nothing upon impact with the empty air.</p><p> </p><p>“What is that?” Severus asked. He had never seen a barrier like that before, and Harry hadn’t even been <em> looking. </em>“How are you doing that?”</p><p>“I dunno,” Harry answered. “How’s your arm? Think you can catch your wand?” Another explosion of sparks fell harmlessly to the floor, bluish white that time, and Severus flexed his fingers. Harry might have stopped the bleeding, but his shoulder was still very damaged. He would need medical attention when this was done, certainly. </p><p>“It hurts,” he said, over the sound of yet another pair of deadly curses bursting apart. “But I think I can still manage to catch.”</p><p>An arrowhead of bright light the size of a man hurtled at Harry’s shield next, and then another, and they winked out like shooting stars, and Harry <em> laughed. </em> Severus felt it in his chest like a warm hand, and he knew right then that if he hadn’t already been in love, that would have done it. That <em> laugh </em> in this battlefield? Mercy. He would have lost his fucking mind if he’d seen this while Harry was just his <em> student. </em></p><p>“That is… extremely… compelling,” he said, looking at the Dark Lord’s stricken expression, and Harry laughed again, and raised one hand high above his head.</p><p>“Catch!” he said, and jerked his arm downward, and the Elder Wand soared out of Voldemort’s fingers and straight into Severus’ palm. </p><p>The Dark Lord’s fear was now very clear, and when he turned towards his Deatheaters, it was obvious that they could see it, too. For when he cried, “kill them!” not a single soul so much as twitched. “KILL THEM!” They were just watching, like everyone else.</p><p>“Oh, sad,” Harry said. “Guess no one wants to die for you after all.”</p><p>“Let me know when you’re done playing with him and I’ll put him out of his misery,” Severus added, and Voldemort let out a hideous snarl.</p><p>“You think I need a wand to bring my Deatheaters to heel, do you?” He tore back his sleeve. “I do not! KNEEL, traitor!” he pressed his forefinger to his Dark Mark, and Deatheaters all over the hall cried out and fell to their knees as his displeasure shot from their forearms into their bodies. Draco screamed, too, and crumpled beside his mother, clutching his left arm in pain. </p><p>Severus did not scream, though. Severus did not clutch his arm, and certainly he did not kneel. </p><p>“But - <em> kneel!” </em>Voldemort said again, lifting his finger and replacing it, triggering another wave of agony through the remains of his inner circle. And still, Severus did not fall. He just raised an imperious eyebrow, and held out his left arm. </p><p>“I’m terribly sorry to disappoint you, my Lord,” he said. “But Mr. Potter has relieved me of my Mark.” He lifted his sleeve to show the edge of the bandage, and dropped it again. “Quite painful. Agonizing, really.”</p><p>“WHAT?” Draco demanded from his knees.</p><p>“But… that’s… impossible,” Voldemort breathed. </p><p>“That’s just what I said,” Severus answered.</p><p>“A WAND!” Voldemort screamed, reaching out to his followers, but still, no one moved, and many of the Deatheaters had not even regained their feet. They were just staring at Harry from their knees, wide-eyed. “A - A WAND!”</p><p>“Your turn,” Harry said, and spread his fingers at the floor beneath the Dark Lord’s feet. “Kneel.” A torrent of thick vines shot up out of the stones and twined like tentacles around Voldemort's body - around his arms and legs and back - and then constricted, forcing him to the ground. He looked unexpectedly small like that, Severus thought. Like he was already a corpse. Mummified. Preserved in the fumes from his hatred and cruelty like meat in a smoker, and very, very pathetic. “Ok, Tom,” Harry continued. “Listen carefully. I learned a lot about Horcruxes while I was hunting yours, and I know that you’ve hardly enough soul left inside you to so much as feel pain, but I’m going to give you one chance to prove that you’re still a man.”</p><p>“A <em> man?” </em> Voldemort spat, and though he was clearly trying to sound scornful, he really just sounded terrified. “What would you know about-” His eyes twitched just fractionally towards the crowd, and Severus whipped around, but then relaxed again as he saw a pair of Weasleys already wrestling Wormtail to the ground. They had it covered.</p><p>“Hit him in the back, will you?” Bill demanded. “Bloody <em> snake!” </em></p><p>“Stay down, Pettigrew,” Charlie snarled, putting a knee into his spine and holding his head to the ground with one large hand. “Move a single fucking muscle and the last thing you’ll see is a green flash.”</p><p>“Ah-ah-ah,” Harry said, and Severus turned back to see what looked like a heat shimmer flicker into life and then away between the Dark Lord’s immobilized body and the two of them. “Nothing wandless from you.”</p><p>“My God I love you,” Severus muttered, and then called over his shoulder. “Draco? I believe that rat is one of your aggressors. If you’d care to have him, I think the Weasleys might share.”</p><p>“Yes please,” Draco answered, and neither Harry nor Severus bothered to watch as they heard a thump, a squeal of pain, and a great deal of pathetic begging.</p><p>“Draco, please, Draco, no, <em> wait-” </em></p><p>“Still want to be my master, Wormtail?” There was another thump, and silence. “Filthy <em> rapist.” </em></p><p>“I take it you’re a traitor?” Charlie asked.</p><p>“Yes, quite. <em> Incarcerous.” </em></p><p>“Pardon the interruption, my Lord,” Severus said. “I believe Harry was offering you your last rights.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah,” Harry continued. “You killed my family. You killed my friends. You tried to kill Severus, and now you are about to die. So, I want to offer you the chance to repent before you do. To show some remorse for your crimes. Some… courage, if you have any.”</p><p>“How kind,” Severus said.</p><p>“Remorse?” the Dark Lord spat. “I have no remorse! What cause could be more just, more right, than freeing Wizard Kind from the tyranny of the <em> muggles? </em> What greater goal could be pursued? I have done <em> nothing </em>but try to bring our people out of bondage!”</p><p>“Politics,” Harry scoffed, but Severus’ face twisted and he pointed the Elder Wand directly between the Dark Lord’s eyes.</p><p><em>“OUR </em>PEOPLE?” he demanded. “You loathsome fiend, you have killed countless of <em>‘our people.’</em> You masquerade concern for the integrity of magic? You playact as a freedom-fighter? You have done more damage to <em>our people </em>than any despot in history. You have extinguished some of our brightest stars. You murdered Harry’s mother in cold blood, and the spark of magic inside her was <em>precious. </em>Lily was brilliant, and powerful, and kind. What of her? What mad philosophy could possibly put greater value on a world without her in it?”</p><p>“That Mudblood?” Voldemort asked with a malicious sparkle in his eye. “Tell me, Severus, what would <em> Lily Potter </em>think of what you’ve done to her son?”</p><p>“Kill him,” Harry said abruptly from beside him. “He said her name. Kill him.” </p><p>“You do the boy’s dirty work, do you?” Voldemort hissed. “Nothing but a trained dog, sniffing after his master?”</p><p>“Oh, yes,” Severus answered. “That’s all I’ve ever been, isn’t it? A trained <em> dog.” </em> He touched the tip of his wand to the Dark Lord’s forehead, but then hesitated. Harry was right there beside him, and what he wanted to do might be… upsetting. Better to ask after his preference than to give him nightmares. “Shall I do it mercifully?” Severus asked. “Or might I indulge myself?”</p><p>“He said her name,” came Harry’s answer. Soft, but sure. “No mercy.”</p><p>“Kill him, Master Snape!” Kreacher croaked into the hush. “Kill him for brave Master Regulus!”</p><p>“For Fred!” Molly Weasley cried. “For my Fred!”</p><p>“KILL HIM FOR DORA!” Lupin shouted, and then the whole crowd took up the call with the names of their fallen. </p><p>
  <em> Kill him! Kill him! For Cedric! For Charity! For Moody! For Ted! For Emmeline, for James, for Alice, for Frank, for Colin, for Sirius, for Amelia - for - for - for - for - for - for - for - for - </em>
</p><p>The Dark Lord looked out at the crowd, and Severus followed his gaze to see Kingsley, Minerva, Charlie, Bill, Neville and Lee Jordan already busy restraining the surviving Deatheaters for arrest, and Pettigrew face down on the floor like a trussed pig with Draco’s foot on his back. They weren’t even trying to fight. They were going quietly. </p><p>It was over, and everyone knew it. </p><p>He looked back at the Dark Lord - looked right into his eyes - and Voldemort bared his teeth. </p><p><em> “Traitor,” </em>he spat.</p><p>“For seventeen years,” Severus answered. “Pity you were so trusting. <em> Sectumsempra!” </em> The shouting of the spectators died with a gasp as blood spurted out of the Dark Lord’s throat in a great gout. He fell back, and Severus pursued, pinning him to the ground with one foot over the wound. He pressed hard, slowing the bleeding, and as he crouched down he felt the Dark Lord’s esophagus collapse under the pressure with a wet crunch. “Does that hurt?” he asked, the blood pulsing out from under his boot with each frantic beat of the Dark Lord’s heart. “You twisted, revolting ghoul.” He pointed his wand into Voldemort’s right eye, and then into his left, and then right in the center. “I hope you realize how utterly you’ve failed.” Voldemort’s mouth opened like he wanted to speak, but all that came out was a red froth, and Severus sneered in disgust. <em> “Avada Kedavra.” </em> </p><p> </p><p>No one broke the silence as Severus stood back, leaving a single bloody footprint on the floor, and no one broke the silence as the wasted body burst into flames. They were blue, and intensely hot, and when Severus turned around, he saw a sea of wide eyes over Harry’s head. But Severus did not address the crowd. He did not say anything at all. He just took Harry by the waist, and kissed him.</p><p> </p><p>And then the fire went out, and the room exploded in noise.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The White Sheet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A mass of jubilant people swarmed forward to engulf them. Ron and Hermione first, and then Luna and Ginny and Mandy and Lisa and Dean and Hagrid and Madam Hooch, and then what felt like eight-hundred more. Embracing them, tugging on them, slapping them on the back, screaming and laughing and shouting and crying. Severus seized Harry’s hand as the crowd threatened to separate them, but a weeping Aberforth pulled him into a bear hug, crushing his injured shoulder, and as he grimaced in pain, Harry dragged him back, only for him to be immediately accosted by Professor Sprout.</p><p>“SEVERUS!” she cried, tears running down her face. “I never believed you’d really turned! Never!”</p><p>“OI! Let go of him!” Harry shouted, and when no one so much as stopped screaming, he tried again, louder. “Hey! STOP IT! STOP!” He clutched his head. <em> “STOP!” </em> It came out as a shriek, and there was a bang, and the people closest to them were knocked back into the others. “Sorry,” Harry said into the shocked silence. He held out his arms. “I’m sorry. But Severus got <em> shot </em> and I didn’t heal it right so can you please stop manhandling him? And can we… get some water or something?”</p><p>“MASTER POTTER!” Kreacher howled, leaping up on Dean's shoulder like a spider monkey and raising the knife in his fist. The tip was snapped off and it was covered in gore. “I WILL SERVE YOU!”</p><p>“Merlin who is <em> that?” </em>Dean yelped. “Get down! You’re all bloody.”</p><p>“I is trodden on by a Deatheater,” Kreacher croaked, holding out one mangled foot for Dean to see. “But I still will serve Master Potter.”</p><p>“Aw, Kreacher,” Harry said, and turned to the others. “Maybe we should - I dunno, tend to the wounded? So… y’know. No one bleeds to death?”</p><p>“Right, of course,” Professor Flitwick said. “The wounded.”</p><p>“Who’s wounded?” Lisa called out. She spun in a circle. “Oh. Um. Who <em> isn’t </em>wounded?” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>While Kingsley oversaw the removal of the surviving Deatheaters, including the Carrows once he was informed of their predicament in Ravenclaw Tower, the rest of the Professors busied themselves collecting the bodies of the fallen, and setting up a new field hospital where the high table had stood. Professor Sinistra and Sprout began casting cleaning charms over as many people as they could reach, Professor Trelawney conjured a great quantity of white sheets on which to examine the wounded, and Professor McGonagall spread one out for Severus and Harry near the wall, while Hagrid took the Dark Lord’s charred body outside for disposal.</p><p>“Bloody bastard,” he was muttering as he slung the corpse over his shoulder wrapped in what looked like a beach-towel. “Think you can kill Harry and make me carry the body, do ya? Gonna give you to the thestrals. Bloody bastard…”</p><p>“Alright Potter, hold still,” Minerva said, and began casting a series of cleaning charms over him. Harry obeyed, and glanced over towards Draco and his mother where they were sitting nearby. They were speaking quietly, their heads close together, and Harry turned away as he heard Draco’s question: <em> ‘Where is my father?’ </em> and the answer, <em> ‘he’s dead.’  </em></p><p>Harry looked to Severus, but Severus just shook his head. He had not seen what happened to Lucius. </p><p>A little ways away on their other side, Hermione, Ron and Slughorn were rounding up the injured house-elves and sitting them each down on a clean bit of sheet. There were more than Harry expected, and he only recognized Kreacher with his wounded foot, and Winky, bleeding from a torn ear. She was holding the hand of another elf whose left side looked scalded. Red and blistered, anyway, like he’d had a boiling pot of water dashed onto him.</p><p>“Never seen anything like it,” Slughorn was saying. “Such bravery! Such courage! Such savagery! Who would have known, under our very feet…the warrior elves of Hogwarts…”</p><p>Harry looked away. Slughorn was just surprised because he didn’t know any house-elves personally. If he’d heard Kreacher’s story about the black lake, or if he’d known Dobby at all… He wouldn’t be surprised. Dobby had more courage in his tiny little finger than most Wizards had in their entire bodies.</p><p>But… better not to think of that right then. Severus was hurt. He should focus.</p><p>“Let’s see,” Minerva was saying, casting another set of cleaning charms over Severus, vanishing blood and grime from his exposed skin. “An arrow?”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus answered. “Centaur mistook me for a Deatheater. Terrible misunderstanding.”</p><p>“Hm.” She moved to begin on his many buttons, but Harry stopped her.</p><p>“Professor McGonagall,” he said, gently removing her hands and replacing them with his own. “Let me.” If she could fix the botched job he’d done on the wound, that was fine. But she didn’t need to be undoing Severus’ <em> buttons. </em> He could bloody-well do that much.</p><p>He could feel Severus’ eyes on him as he made his way down the row of fastenings on his chest, but he didn’t look up. He just peeled back the outer layer as carefully as he could, and set upon the inner one. Minerva was watching him too, of course - watching both of them - her expression inscrutable.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok,” Hermione said. “It’s Topny, right?” </p><p>“Yes, mistress,” the house elf answered. “I is Topny.”</p><p>“You were so brave, Topny,” Hermione continued. “Let me see that arm, now.” The little creature held out her arm with a shiver of pain. It was broken in three places, and her tea-towel was soaked with blood.</p><p>“Is there anymore skele-gro?” Ron asked under his breath. </p><p>“I hope so,” Hermione answered. She looked askance at the crates of medicinal potions. “We used a lot during the lull.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t mean to do this to you,” Harry murmured as the final layer of cloth was finally prized free from Severus’ skin. His white shirt was dark with dried blood, and blackened where Harry had accidently burned the wound closed. “God, Severus, I’m sorry. How did I do that?”</p><p>“It seems, Mister Potter,” Minerva answered. “That your magic is uncommonly… raw.”</p><p>“You might say that,” Severus said. </p><p>Nearby, Parvati was attending to Seamus on their own white sheet, and he cursed fluently as she lifted the back of his shirt to reveal a huge blotch of bright red and purple bruising. </p><p>“Bloody <em> giants,” </em>he hissed as Parvati grimaced in sympathy. “How’s it look?” </p><p>“Um… it’s fine,” she answered, and turned her head. “Professor McGonagall?” she called. “Can you help me with something?”</p><p>Minerva looked at Harry like she was asking for permission.</p><p>“Go ahead,” Harry said. “I can clean this up. If I need help I’ll call you back.”</p><p>“Very well,” Minerva answered, and stood, and Harry turned his attention back towards Severus as Parvati whispered something about <em> internal bleeding, </em> and Seamus responded with a very loud, <em> ‘what?’ </em> </p><p>“I think I… kind of… seared some of your clothes in there,” Harry said, touching the black puncture site. “That’s… bad… isn’t it?” Severus glanced down at it once, and closed his eyes.</p><p>“I suppose you were focused on stopping the bleeding,” he said. <em> “Intending </em> to stop the bleeding?”</p><p>“Yeah, well, it squirted out at me,” Harry answered. “I thought you were going to fucking die. Still didn’t mean to burn you.”</p><p>“Well, my precious insurgent,” Severus continued, resting his head back against the wall. “As your magic seems to function as an extension of your every whim, you might try intending to <em>heal</em> it, instead of simply staunching the flow of blood.” Harry scowled at the wound and then looked up at him.</p><p>“You’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?” he asked. </p><p>“I…” Severus thought about it. “Yes, I suppose I am.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Lupin sat on the floor of the makeshift morgue with his head in his hands. The tears would not come, and he did not know why. He wanted to cry, he really did - but his eyes were dry. Dora’s body was right there. Right in front of him. But he… couldn’t cry. </p><p>He’d avenged her. Her killer hadn’t made it three hours. But doing that to Bellatrix… it hadn’t made him feel any better, or any worse, really. He just felt empty. Hollowed out. </p><p>How was he going to go home to his son, now? To Dora’s mother?</p><p>With her body? Without it? </p><p>How was he supposed to go home?</p><p>Someone touched his shoulder, and he jumped and looked up to see Arthur Weasley with a bottle of Firewhisky. Arthur did not speak. He just slid to the floor beside him and offered him the bottle, and Lupin took a swallow and handed it back.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Ok. So. Intend to heal it. Right.”</p><p>“Yes,” Severus answered. “Intend to remove the foreign contaminants, and heal the wound.”</p><p>Harry took a deep breath. “Ok. Just… heal it. Simple.” He cupped his hands over the puncture and concentrated hard. <em> Wanting </em> with all his heart to take away Severus’ pain, to clean the wound, to fix whatever was wrong inside, and close it up. All he felt was a little tingle in his palms, and he had no idea if he was doing it right or not until the tension suddenly left Severus’ body in a rush. He hadn’t really realized Severus was holding himself so still, and he lifted his hands to see what he’d done. The charred flesh and bits of linen were gone, and in their place there was nothing but a pink divot about the size of a knut.</p><p>“Oh. Is that… better?” he asked, reaching out to touch the new scar very gently with his fingers. “It looks better. How about on the inside?” </p><p>Severus tentatively rolled his shoulder in its socket. “Good as new,” he said. “Excellent work.” </p><p>Harry looked down at his palms in wonder. “Just… whatever I want?” he asked. “Just… wanting?”</p><p>“Oh, yes, I believe so.” Severus shrugged his arm back into his shirt and tunic, but did not bother to fasten them. “Even the universe gives you special treatment, Potter.” </p><p>Harry smiled at him in his sad way. “I’m really sorry,” he said.</p><p>“For what?” </p><p>“Just… everything.”</p><p>“I see,” Severus answered, and hooked one finger into Harry’s collar. “Then I am sorry, too. Now, never apologize again.” He tugged Harry forward, and Harry squeaked in alarm and jerked back.</p><p>“We’re in the middle of the Great Hall!” he gasped, flushing pink, and Severus grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him right back in.</p><p>“I’ve already kissed you in the middle of the Great Hall,” he said. “Everyone saw it.”</p><p>“But-” </p><p>“Harry,” he murmured, brushing their noses together. “I told everyone. While you were in the clearing. I told… absolutely everyone.” </p><p>“You - what?” </p><p>“I quite laid bare my soul. They all know.” </p><p>That time, Harry did not pull away. Harry submitted to his kiss, and when Severus tilted his head, and cupped the back of his neck, Harry obeyed his unspoken command and opened his mouth. And, oh, the taste of him was a <em> revelation, </em> and Severus tugged him still closer, kissing him slowly, thoroughly, quite forgetting where they were under the sheer engrossing pleasure of the plush softness of his lips, and the slide of his tongue, and the touch of his hands. In being able to <em> kiss him, </em>in short, when Severus had been quite sure he would never have the chance again.</p><p>But then someone said Harry’s name, and Harry went rigid, and Severus released him and looked up to see a pair of girls standing outside the border of their sheet, shifting uncomfortably.</p><p>“Hello Miss Brockelhurst, Miss Chang,” Severus said, moving to button his shirt back up. He really did need to work on his Harry-based tunnel vision. It could be so embarrassing.</p><p>Or maybe he didn’t have to work on that, now. Maybe he could just… succumb. What an adventure that would be.</p><p>“Hi Professor Snape,” Mandy said, looking between them. “Um. I know you’re kind of… busy with your um… s-soulmate, Harry…” she broke off with a nervous little giggle, and Harry raised his eyebrows at Severus. </p><p><em> ‘Everyone,’ </em> Severus mouthed back at him.</p><p>“And, uh, I know you're really tired, probably,” Mandy continued. “But we - we’re out of healing potions. And I saw you just… do that thing to Professor Snape’s shoulder and…” She looked at her companion, and Harry noticed that Cho did not look well at all. She was very pale, even under the tan of her skin, and she was holding her right arm close to her body at an awkward angle.</p><p>“My wrist is broken,” she said. “I fell, and it’s all… sort of… crunchy inside.” </p><p>“Can you fix it?” Mandy asked. “It’s ok if you can’t… we can wait for more potions to come from St. Mungo’s if you can’t… I mean, I dunno what sort of magic you’re even doing.” She giggled again, and Harry looked back at Severus, and Severus gave him a small and solemn nod.</p><p>“I can try,” Harry said. “Want to… um. Sit?”</p><p>Mandy helped Cho kneel down on the sheet in front of Harry, and as she did, a hush rippled out from their immediate neighbors and into the rest of the hall. Harry did not seem to notice it, but Severus certainly did, and he looked around to see that nearly everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch. Even the house-elves waiting patiently for attention from Ron, Hermione and Slughorn had turned their bulbous eyes on them. Apparently they all wanted to bear witness to the miracle of Harry Potter, as if Harry hadn’t already done and given more in one day than anyone else on earth could hope to accomplish in their lifetime. </p><p>He scowled around at them all, but Harry did not seem bothered. He didn’t seem to care that everyone was looking at him - or perhaps he was just used to it - and he took Cho’s hand very gently in his own, closing his fingers around her swollen wrist with the lightest possible touch. But even that small contact hurt her, and he hesitated as she gave a small cry.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said, his eyes wide with uncertainty and no small amount of fear. Severus rested one palm on his back.</p><p>“Just like calling up the spring,” he said. “Simple.”</p><p> </p><p>Cho was the first of many, and while she was still weeping with relief, George Weasley and Neville Longbottom brought Firenze, shivering in shock, and after Firenze came Michael Corner, badly burned, and then Dean, with his damaged hand. </p><p>“What’s the matter with it?” Harry asked, taking Dean’s hand in his own. “It looks alright. Kind of like it was already healed.”</p><p>“Um. Professor Snape did it,” Dean said nervously, his eyes dancing from Severus, to the floor, and then back to Harry. “But he said it was… er…”</p><p>“He was hit with a <em>Squarrosis </em>curse,” Severus said. “It stripped him to the bone. I regrew the tissue, but his mobility is limited. Will you move your fingers please, Mr. Thomas?” His hand twitched feebly. “He needs his nerve-fibers regrown.”</p><p>“Oh,” Harry said, and met Severus’ eyes. “How much do I have to know for the <em> wanting </em> thing to work?”</p><p>“I have no idea,” Severus answered. “But I doubt you have the anatomy of the human shoulder memorized. And yet…” He extended his arm and rotated it. “Here we are.”</p><p>“Right,” Harry said. “Right. Ok.” He scowled down at Dean’s hand held in his own, and his mouth twisted up. “How about now?” he asked, and Dean flexed his fingers and then made a fist.</p><p>“Holy shit,” he said. </p><p> </p><p>After Dean, Minerva and Poppy themselves brought someone to him, supported in a stretcher. It was Lavender Brown, and there was a soft white glow around her mouth. Severus recognized it as a <em> respirare </em>charm. It was breathing for her.</p><p>“Harry,” Poppy said, kneeling down beside her patient and laying one hand on Harry’s arm. “I need you to understand that you might not be able to help her. I couldn’t, and neither could Minerva. So… it’s alright if you can’t either, ok?”</p><p>Harry just nodded, staring down at Lavender’s mangled face. Her teeth were visible through the blood and torn flesh, though not in the usual places. “I tried to save her,” he said slowly. “I saw Greyback doing it and I - I got him off.” Severus could hear the unspoken end to that sentence, even if no one else could: <em> I just wasn’t fast enough. </em></p><p>“I know,” Poppy answered gently. “Sibyl saw it. But… when she fell, her back was broken. She couldn’t move when he came for her. And - ” Her voice broke, and she took a deep breath. “Wounds inflicted by Werewolves are notoriously difficult to heal.”</p><p>“I know they are,” Harry said. “I know. Can you… back up a little bit?”</p><p>Poppy got to her feet and stood beside Minerva, and Severus narrowed his eyes at them as they took each other's hands. How dare they lay a burden like that at Harry’s feet? After everything else? Despicable.</p><p>Luckily for them he could do it.</p><p>“Harry,” he said, reaching out to turn Harry’s head with two fingers. Harry looked up at him, paler than ever. “Just intention. Just wanting. That’s all.” Harry nodded, swallowed, and then hovered his hands over Lavender’s face. The quiet in the hall was deep, by that time. Silent, and intense, and Severus felt a sudden fury burn white-hot in his chest. These people always <em> needed </em> so much. Always <em> needing </em> Harry, always <em> pulling </em> and <em> tearing </em> at him, demanding <em> miracles </em> from him. Always <em> more </em> and <em> more </em> and <em> more. </em>  </p><p>But then that feeling was overridden by something else as Harry moved his hands away, and Lavender blinked up at him. </p><p>Awe. </p><p> </p><p>After Lavender came still more, all the wounded that could not be healed by charms alone, one by one. Severus watched from beside him as Harry laid hands on full-thickness burns and spell damage, broken and crushed bones, maulings and injected venom. And then Severus started to see injuries that could have easily been set to rights by Poppy, or Minerva, or by Severus himself, but those people did not want anyone else to heal them. They wanted Harry, just like everyone else. They wanted the touch of his magic, and his hands. They wanted his soft words, and his attention, and his eyes. They wanted <em> him. </em> All of them. </p><p>Severus watched as the wounded thinned and were replaced by the bereaved, and Harry continued to do his best to heal them, too. He spoke to them and clasped their hands, witnessed their tears, and grief, and joy, and pain. Severus watched as Harry submitted to the embraces and weeping of dozens and dozens of people. It was like a sacrament. Each survivor coming in turn to their little white sheet, offering thanks, and tears, and condolences, and praise. Offering and receiving whatever paltry comfort was possible.</p><p>
  <em> “Thank you, Harry - what you’ve done for our family…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You were so brave… so brave…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I wish my mother could have seen…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Amazing - it was amazing…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You did everything you could…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’ll never forget…” </em>
</p><p>They were treating Harry like an icon. But Harry was not an icon, he was a person, and Severus watched as Harry’s face got paler, and paler, and paler with each successive healing, and each word he spoke. It did not seem to occur to anyone that Harry had not eaten or slept - that Harry had done magic that night so incredibly advanced that it would have killed a lesser soul - that Harry needed to <em> rest.  </em></p><p>“You don’t have to do this,” Severus said as Dedalus Diggle moved away to be replaced by the next. “Harry. You don’t.”</p><p>“I do,” Harry answered simply, turning his eyes towards Madam Rosmerta, weeping freely and reaching out her hands. “Hi, Rosmerta,” he said. “How are you?” </p><p>“Harry, please-” Severus tried, but Harry interrupted him. </p><p>“No, Severus.”</p><p>Well, that answer was more than clear, and that meant that Severus either had to let Harry stay where he was and allow his life-force to be sucked out bit by bit, or drag him forcibly away. He deliberated, watching Rosmerta embracing him, hysterical, barely able to form words.</p><p>
  <em> “P-precious… treasure… w-wonderful…” </em>
</p><p>Well. Harry was a precious treasure. Harry was wonderful. And hopefully Harry would remember words like that when he eventually imploded with guilt over the people he had not been able to save, as he surely would. So, Severus let him stay, and after a while, Ron and Hermione came to sit on their sheet with them, and then Draco came, too, with Narcissa trailing behind. </p><p>“Harry?” Draco said cautiously, and Harry looked up.</p><p>“Hey, Draco,” he said, giving him a wan smile. “Are you hurt?”</p><p><em> ‘What do you need from me?’ he means, </em>Severus thought, watching Draco kneel down the way they all had. Like a penitent. </p><p>“Yeah, a bit…” Draco said. “I broke my arm. There was some kind of explosion or something in Hogsmeade. Rosmerta mended it, but not all the way, and I think I cracked it again during the battle. It, um… it hurts.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m sorry.” Harry held out his hands. “Give it here.”</p><p>“That ‘explosion or something’ was Harry,” Ron said. “Knocked the Shrieking Shack absolutely <em> flat. </em> Saved bloody all of us.”</p><p>“Wow,” Draco said. “That was you?”</p><p> </p><p>“How is he doing that?” Slughorn asked, sitting on one of the house benches beside Minerva and Flitwick. </p><p>“I’ve never seen anything like it!” Flitwick squeaked. “Those barriers alone should have killed him. But this? Free charm-work! Absolutely unheard of. Look!” They watched as Harry laid his hands on Draco’s elbow, and then took them away, and Draco flexed his arm this way and that, and laughed with something close to delight. </p><p>“And what he did to Lavender,” McGonagall added. “You should have seen her parents. The <em> weeping.” </em></p><p>“I don’t understand how Mr. Malfoy could possibly be sitting there with them,” Slughorn said. “And his Mother, too? With Severus <em> right there? </em> After the things we saw?” He mopped his brow. “How is it possible?”</p><p>Minerva frowned as Draco sat cross-legged at the corner of Harry’s sheet and gestured for Narcissa to sit beside him. “I don’t understand how any of this is possible,” she said. “You should have seen - when Harry collapsed - the way Severus <em> handled him. </em>Shocking.”</p><p>“What do you mean <em> collapsed?” </em>Flitwick asked.</p><p>“What do you mean <em> handled?” </em>Slughorn asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Master Potter? Master Snape?” Kreacher croaked, hovering at the edge of the fabric, twisting his hands. “If Kreacher might… impose…?” He rocked back and forth on his feet. “If Kreacher might… sit… with - Master Potter?” He turned red. “Apologies.”</p><p>“No, don’t go,” Harry said quickly, turning from the gnarled hands of an old woman clasped in his own. “Please, Kreacher, sit.”</p><p>“C’mon, Kreacher,” Ron added, patting the ground. “Harry always leaves room for the elves.”</p><p>“Th-thank you, Master Weasley,” Kreacher croaked, giving a low bow, and then bowed to Draco and Narcissa, sitting on the very edge. “Master and Mistress Malfoy.” He bowed to Severus. “Master Snape.” Then his eyes flicked from Hermione, to the back of Harry’s head, and to Hermione again. He stayed still for a moment, quivering with indecision, and then took a deep breath, and bowed. “M-mistress… mistress…”</p><p>“Granger,” Draco supplied, and Severus raised his eyebrows. </p><p>“Mistress Granger,” Kreacher said, and sat down. “Kreacher is bringing pumpkin juice,” he continued, and produced a single bottle from his tea-towel, tapped it with his finger, and multiplied it into a dozen. They were ice cold and weeping with condensation within moments.</p><p>“Brilliant, Kreacher!” Ron said, handing them out. Severus took one for Harry, and when Harry tried to waive it away, pressed it into his hand and closed his fingers around it.</p><p>“Don’t be stubborn,” he whispered. “You’re shaking.”</p><p> </p><p>“FOOD!” Aberforth bellowed, returning from the kitchens bearing loves of bread, wheels of cheese, and preserved olives, and followed by a parade of uninjured house-elves with fruit and preserves and more of the same. “I GOT FOOD!” </p><p>The house-elves scattered through the hall, and the defenders of Hogwarts ate their simple fare in small knots in every corner - students, and teachers, and parents, and house-elves, and members of the Order all mixed up together with the ghosts looking on. Even Grawp got fed, when people started tossing food through one of the broken windows and into his open mouth.</p><p>Harry, though, did not want to eat.</p><p>“I’m not hungry,” he said, again and again, and, “I’m fine,” and then finally, “I’ll get sick.” And that, Severus did believe, so he let it lie, and contented himself with making Harry sip at another pumpkin juice in between each visitor. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.</p><p> </p><p>As the morning wore on, news began to come to their little shrine that people all over the country were recovering from their imperiused state, and that Kingsley had been named interim Minister of Magic. News came of celebrations erupting in every quarter of the Wizarding World, and of muggleborns coming out of hiding and returning to their families, and the burning of the registry the Ministry had worked so hard to create.</p><p>And then, when the sun was shining brilliantly through the shattered windows and lighting up the floor in patches, someone brought a Wizard Wireless to Harry like an offering, and they sat and listened to Kingsley’s deep voice addressing the country.</p><p><em> “...time of great mourning and jubilation, we must come together not only to rebuild what we have lost, but to lay the foundations of an entirely new world. To remind ourselves not only of our heritage as Witches and Wizards, but of our shared humanity. We, as a people, must undo not only the terrible deeds Lord Voldemort sowed in our communities, but also the injustices of the past that led to such a tyrant coming to power at all.” </em> A rustle of pages, crackling with static. <em> “The Muggle-born registry has been destroyed, and the innocent released from Azkaban. We cannot, of course, undo the deaths, nor put to rights the pain and suffering of the families torn apart. We cannot bring back those whom we have lost. But we can return the wands to the wandless. We can rebuild the homes of the terrorized. And above all, we can stand together. Muggle and Muggle-born, Half-blood and Squib, Pure-blood and Magical Creature. Together, facing this new…” </em></p><p>Severus wrapped one arm around Harry’s shoulders and tugged him in against his side, and Harry went obediently, like poseable doll. He was clearly exhausted beyond endurance, and would probably consent to be taken away, now. And he did need to be taken away. Badly. </p><p>Severus looked at the others. “I’m going to take him,” he said. “He needs to sleep.”</p><p>“Me too,” Ron yawned, and Hermione blinked blearily up from where she was laying with her head on his lap. </p><p>“Severus…” Narcissa began hesitantly, and Severus looked back at her to see her rest one hand protectively on Draco’s shoulder. Her usually lovely face was drawn with worry and the color of ash, and looking at her, Severus knew exactly what she was going to say. “My son and I… We - I don’t expect- I mean…” She trailed off, her eyes downcast. “We - haven’t anywhere to go.” </p><p>Of course they had nowhere to go. Their home had been the Dark Lord’s Headquarters, and would certainly be swarming with law-enforcement already. Where would be safe for them? An inn? Certainly not. Who knew what sort of vigilanties might be out for blood. Tonight, and tomorrow, and likely for many many months.</p><p>“Come with us to the Dungeons,” Severus answered. “You can stay in the Slytherin dormitory. It should be quite empty.”</p><p>“Crabbe and Goyle are dead,” Harry murmured. “Burned.”</p><p>“Yes…” Severus said slowly. “That’s right. You need to sleep.” He made his way to his feet and offered his hand. “Shall I carry you?”</p><p>Harry looked up at him, but then his eyes drifted to the left, and Severus turned to see Molly and Arthur Weasley approaching.</p><p>“Ron, Hermione, H-harry dear,” Molly said. “It’s time to go. Time to go home and rest. You can stay together at the Burrow. We have p-plenty of room.” She sniffed, and Arthur took her hand.</p><p>“Always room for Ron’s friends,” he said gently. “Come on home with us, now.”</p><p>It took about three seconds for these words to penetrate Harry’s brain, and when they did, his eyes went wide and he shrank back against Severus’ legs.</p><p>“Harry will not be coming to the Burrow,” Severus said flatly, laying one hand on Harry’s head. </p><p>“No?” Molly asked. Her face was pale and streaked with tears, and her eyes were shadowed. She looked confused, and in shock, and Severus could not begrudge her that. She’d lost her son. But she was not taking Harry. No one was going to take Harry anywhere. Not ever again. “But… he needs somewhere to sleep. He needs… a safe place to go.”</p><p>“He has a safe place to go,” Severus answered, and from one of the house tables he saw Bill and Charlie look over and then stand up. “He is staying here, Molly. With me.”</p><p>“Oh.” She looked down at Harry holding on to Severus’ legs like they were a life-preserver. “Oh. I mean. I only thought…a home with us… We all want to have you, Harry. No reason to stay… here.” </p><p>“Mum,” Bill said gently, taking her arm. “You’re going to have to leave Harry. He wants to stay with Snape.”</p><p>“Come on,” Charlie added. “Leave him be.”</p><p>“Yeah, mum,” Ron said, standing up and pulling Hermione to her feet beside him. “They’re <em> together. </em>Bloody Dark Lord announced it to the entire world. Weren’t you listening? If you think Harry’s going anywhere without Snape you’re barking mad.” </p><p><em>“His lover</em> <em>I will torture into madnessss…” </em>Draco hissed, raising his hands like a ghoul. <em>“Break his bonessss…”</em></p><p>“Apologies,” Narcissa said quickly, pulling Draco’s arms back down. “He’s exhausted.”</p><p>Molly looked in utter bewilderment between her sons, down at Draco, over at Harry, and up at Severus. “But - I thought that was… a taunt. Or - a trick,” she began slowly. “After how close they were last…” she trailed off. “Oh.”</p><p>“Yeah. Real close,” Ron scoffed. “Also, Hermione is my girlfriend, and she’s going to sleep upstairs with me. I won’t have her stay with Ginny.” </p><p>That seemed to finally snap Molly out of the haze of grief clouding her brain, and she twitched like she’d been slapped. </p><p>“But - upstairs with - what?” she spluttered. “She most certainly will <em> not-” </em></p><p>“You can tear this Witch from my cold dead arms!” Ron declared, and Hermione giggled nervously and covered her face. “AND we’re coming back tomorrow to help clean up.”</p><p>“Us too,” Charlie said. </p><p>Molly began to inflate with maternal outrage, and Severus found himself rather impressed with Ron’s deflection. He might have been an excellent spy… if he ever learned to control his blush response, anyway. Maybe he’d end up an auror. He certainly had the temperament.</p><p>“Alright, mate?” Ron asked, crouching down and resting a hand on Harry’s shoulder as his Mother turned on his older brothers. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” He looked at the blue sky out the broken windows. “Or, y’know. Later today or whatever.”</p><p>Harry smiled weakly. “Yeah.”</p><p>“I won’t make you hug me, though,” Ron continued. “You hugged about four-hundred people already, eh? No more.”</p><p>That time, Harry almost laughed. “Thanks.”</p><p>“Bye, Harry,” Hermione said, and bent down to kiss the top of his head where Severus’ hand had lain. “Let me know what sort of honorific you want and I’ll lobby for it, ok?”</p><p>At that, Severus realized they were <em> trying </em> to get Harry to laugh. Well, he could play that game. </p><p>“Saint Harry,” he intoned, and Harry let out a weak little chuckle. Better than nothing. </p><p>“Snape,” Charlie said, extending a hand, which Severus shook. “That execution was brutal. One for the record books.”</p><p>“I got a bit carried away,” Severus answered, and when Bill offered his hand, he shook that, too. “He tried to kill Harry.”</p><p>“Take care of that boy, yeah?” Bill said. “He’s a national treasure.”</p><p>“I shall.”</p><p>“I would go now, actually,” Charlie added, glancing over his shoulder. “If you go right now maybe no one will notice for - oh, thirty seconds?”</p><p>Severus followed his gaze, and saw that Charlie was quite right. They were somewhat shielded from the eyes of the others by the wall of Weasleys, and most people were focused on the wireless Minerva had on her table. It was tuned to the news - something about the Dementors being rounded up and culled back to their pre-war population.</p><p>“Draco, Narcissa, follow behind,” he said, and pulled Harry unresisting to his feet. “Come on, Harry, up you get.”</p><p>“Oh, am I all done?” Harry asked, and Severus brushed his hair back from his forehead to kiss his scar.</p><p>“Yes, my love,” he said. “You’re all done.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Intervention</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry made it all the way to the Slytherin dorms, which Severus found somewhat surprising. He’d rather expected him to collapse as soon as they left the hall. But he didn’t, and outside the Slytherin common room he shook Draco and Narcissa’s hands, and bade them goodnight very coherently. And then the door closed behind them, and Severus took his arm, and he took a single step, and absolutely crumpled. Apparently all that had been keeping him upright was the presence of even a pair of <em> other people, </em> and left alone with Severus, that was all he had. </p><p>“Alright,” Severus said gently, lifting him up and into his arms. “No more walking.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Harry mumbled, turning his face into Severus’ chest. “I got… tired.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>Severus carried him the rest of the way to his rooms, and took him into the bathroom, and sat him on the counter leaning up against the mirror while he turned on the water. Getting Harry out of his clothes was something of a difficulty, as he was so incredibly limp, so in the end, Severus simply vanished them. They were torn and burnt anyway, and they smelled of smoke and blood even after the charms. After some minor deliberation, he vanished his own, too. No need to keep anything that had been through what they’d been through that night, though he did take Harry’s note out of his pocket. Then, naked, he lowered Harry carefully onto the tiles under the warm spray, and sat down behind him. </p><p>Severus washed his hair and body as best he could from that position, and let the water pour over them both until it ran clear past their feet. He ignored his sodden bandage and the stream of blood-tinged water coursing down his wrist. He ignored his own fatigue, and pain, and the way the hot water stung his skin in more places than he’d expected. All that mattered was getting Harry clean and into bed. It would have been better if he’d been able to eat, of course, but that couldn’t be helped now. He could eat when he woke up. Eat, and speak, and cry, and scream, probably. But none of that was going to happen quite yet.</p><p>Harry probably didn’t even know where he was.</p><p> </p><p>So, Severus washed him. And when he was satisfied with their cleanliness, he turned off the water and coaxed Harry up and into a towel. Then, he carried him into the bedroom, dried him off, and laid him in bed. Once he was settled, with the blankets drawn up to his nose, Severus summoned a glass of water for his bedside table, and then tended to himself. He dried his hair and body, peeled off his bandage and conjured a fresh one, and then summoned his own glass of water and drained it. And then he turned around, and saw Harry’s green eyes, heavy-lidded and glazed, peeking at him from over the bedclothes, and started. He’d expected him to be unconscious already.</p><p>“Oh,” Severus said. “Are you… alright?” The question was so incredibly idiotic that he almost blushed. <em> Are you alright. My god. </em></p><p>“Slee-epy,” Harry murmured, and then shifted a little to poke a single finger out of the blankets to beckon with. “C’mere,” he said softly, and watching him do that, Severus suddenly felt he might actually burst into tears. Or faint. Or otherwise… disintegrate. But he didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he drew back the covers, and slid in beside him. </p><p>“I’m shocked you’ve stayed conscious this long,” he said, putting out the lights, and Harry turned laboriously towards him and buried his face. Severus wrapped one arm around him to tug him closer, and intertwined their legs. His body was rather cool, Severus thought, though that was to be expected. And that was what Severus was for, anyway. To warm him up. “Quite an accomplishment to remain even partially lucid after what you did today.”</p><p>“I’m real… special…” It came out like he was drunk.</p><p>“Yes, you are,” Severus answered, kissing his hair. “Sleep, now.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Narcissa lay in Draco’s dormitory bed with her arms around her son. There were plenty of other beds to choose from, of course, but she had no interest in being apart from him, and he did not protest. He seemed grateful for the comfort, really. Or maybe she was just projecting. </p><p>“Mother?” he said quietly into the heavy darkness. The hangings were closed around them, and there was not a speck of light to be seen. She knew, of course, that high above them the sun was shining onto the grounds in full May glory, but down in the dungeons, it might as well have been midnight.</p><p>“Hm?” she murmured back, smoothing Draco’s fine hair down over his temples. He’d liked that quite a lot when he was a boy - it had put him right to sleep - but he hadn’t allowed her to do it in a long time. </p><p>“Professor Snape never hurt me, you know.”</p><p>“I know, darling, I know.”</p><p>There was a long pause, populated only by their breathing, before Draco’s voice came again, very soft. Almost a whisper.</p><p>“What happened to father?” </p><p>Narcissa’s fingers stilled for just a moment on his hair, but then she resumed her petting. There was no need to lie. Not now.</p><p>“I killed him,” she said simply. “I had to.”</p><p>“I thought so,” Draco answered, and when he started to cry, she just held him. She did not try to make him stop, or reassure him, or calm him down, for she did not know the source of his distress. Whether his tears came from grief, or fear, or sorrow, or exhaustion, or something else, she had no idea. But whatever it was, he did not push her away, and her own tears, when they came, were easier to understand. </p><p>Relief.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Severus was dragged back out of sleep by a knocking at his door.</p><p>His first thought, before he’d even opened his eyes, was: <em> Who the fuck would dare? </em> And then his second thought: <em> There is someone in my bed. </em> And his final thought: <em> Oh, it’s Harry. HOLY MERCIFUL LORD IN HEAVEN HE’S ALIVE. </em></p><p>His eyes snapped open. </p><p>Harry was, indeed, in bed beside him, his arm thrown over Severus’ chest and his head tucked in against his neck. His breath was deep and slow, hot against his skin, and Severus just lay there for a moment, basking in the steady beating of his heart. </p><p>
  <em> He’s alive. </em>
</p><p><em> And… I’m alive. </em> </p><p>The sharp knock came again, but Harry did not so much as stir. He just lay there, quite still. The phrase that came first to Severus’ mind was <em> ‘dead asleep,’ </em> but he didn’t like it, so he replaced it with <em> ‘sleeping like a baby,’ </em> and very gingerly began extricating himself to tell whoever was at his door to fuck off and go to hell. Harry stayed quite limp as Severus lifted his arm out of the way and slid from the sheets, and he did not even twitch as Severus threw on a dressing gown and padded into the living room. </p><p>But then the knock came again, still louder, and he dashed to answer it before the imbeciles on the other side really <em> did </em> wake Harry up. As if Harry wouldn’t benefit from a magically-induced coma at this point. Why in Merlin’s name someone would think it appropriate to be hammering on his door after - </p><p>“What?” he spat, throwing it open to reveal Minerva, Horace, and Filius standing there, all looking rather shocked at his state of undress. </p><p>
  <em> Fucking excellent. The inquisition! </em>
</p><p>He crossed his arms. “What time is it?”</p><p>“It’s… six in the evening,” Minerva answered slowly.</p><p>“Well,” Severus scoffed. “I doubt we went to bed earlier than nine in the morning, Minerva. Though if I’d known we’d be having <em> company </em>so soon, I wouldn’t have allowed him to perform so many miracles. Now. What in god’s name are you doing here?”</p><p>“We are here to check on Harry,” Slughorn said in his pompous way. “Where is he?”</p><p>“Keep your voices down. He’s sleeping,” Severus hissed, and then, at Slughorn’s expression. “Yes, you slow bastard, in my bed. He is sleeping <em> in my bed. </em> Care to duel over it?” Slughorn purpled, and Severus glared at Minerva. “I honestly don’t know what else to say to you people, except that I suppose kissing him in front of the Dark Lord’s smouldering <em> corpse </em> wasn’t enough.”</p><p>“But, Severus,” Flitwick squeaked. “Surely it isn’t appropriate to have him in your rooms…He’s so…”</p><p>“I’m afraid it’s much too late for that, Filius. What part of <em> ‘your lover, I will torture into madness,’ </em> did you not understand? Weren’t you there in the hospital when Lupin came after me? I made a <em> speech.” </em></p><p>“I must insist on seeing him,” Minerva cut in. “He’s had no opportunity to tell us what he wants, and he may require… intervention.”</p><p>“Intervention?” Severus demanded. “He’s <em> resting, </em> Minerva. He needs to <em> rest. </em> You want me to drag him out here just to assuage your delicate constitution? I will <em> not.” </em></p><p>“And what if he wants to be taken away?” Slughorn asked.</p><p>Severus sneered at him. “He <em> doesn’t.” </em></p><p>But then Harry’s voice came out of the bedroom, sharp with panic, and all four of them looked around.</p><p>“Severus?<em> Severus?” </em> There was a note of hysteria. <em> “SEVERUS?” </em></p><p>“I’m here, Harry,” Severus called back, and then glared at the others. “I’m here. I’m only in the living room. We have a few visitors.” He dropped his voice again to address Minerva directly. “I hope you're happy,” he hissed. “Did you hear that <em>fear? </em>He thought I was <em>gone.”</em> She just glowered back at him.</p><p>“Visitors?” Harry asked, and appeared behind Severus, putting on his spectacles and dressed only in one of Severus’ white dress-shirts. It was unbuttoned at the top, and fell to his thighs, and Severus had never seen anything so painfully attractive in all his life. </p><p>
  <em> Mine. Mine. Oh god, he’s alive, and he’s mine. And that shirt. Hell. </em>
</p><p>He swallowed, and reached out a hand. “Yes,” he said. “A fresh assortment of accusers. I suppose we were due.”</p><p>Harry groaned as he came to stand beside him and saw who it was that had come calling. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he said, and Severus wrapped one arm around his waist to tug him in against his chest. <em> “What?” </em></p><p>“Oh. Mr. Potter,” Slughorn said, that unflattering flush still on his cheeks. “We just came to inquire as to your… wellbeing. You vanished rather suddenly from the Great Hall this morning.”</p><p>“This morning?” Harry asked. “What time is it?”</p><p>“Apparently suppertime,” Severus answered. “And apparently the staff has become alarmed at your presence here, despite your clear ability to do absolutely whatever the fuck you want.” He turned his head in utter disregard for his colleagues, and buried his nose in Harry’s thick, dark hair. “You might set them straight,” he purred. “As I seem unable to accomplish that, no matter how many impassioned monologues I deliver.” Harry shivered in his arms, and Slughorn’s color deepened.</p><p>“My God, man,” he spluttered indignantly. “That’s a student!”</p><p>“Severus,” Minerva admonished, and Severus looked over at her without lifting his head, his eyes glittering mischievously.</p><p>“Burn me at the stake.”</p><p>“Alright, stop,” Harry said, reaching up to curl one hand around the nape of Severus’ neck behind him. The gesture was so incredibly intimate that Severus felt gooseflesh prickle over his arms and bare legs. “I died YESTERDAY. Surely you can’t give a shit about this.”</p><p>“We could… put you up in a Prefect’s room,” Minerva offered, sounding very uncomfortable. “Give you some… privacy.” She scowled back at Severus. “Some <em> space.” </em></p><p>“We can furnish you with the necessaries,” Flitwick added. “Toiletries, clothes. Whatever you need. You came with nothing, didn’t you?”</p><p>Harry rolled his eyes. “Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Slughorn,” he said, making eye contact with them each in turn. “I’m really sorry this is so upsetting for you… and <em> everyone, </em> apparently, but no. I do not want space, and I do not want privacy. I want <em> Severus. </em> Severus and I are together. As in, <em> romantically, </em> as in, <em> committed </em> and <em> exclusive </em> and <em> in love, </em> as in, <em> for a while. </em>I assume you heard the Dark Lord threaten him with dismemberment or whatever.”</p><p>“Blindness and broken bones,” Severus murmured. “And… skinning.”</p><p>“Right,” Harry agreed. “Harry’s LOVER. Who’d you think he meant, Ron?” He scoffed. “I’m staying with Severus, and you can drag me out as a corpse. Which, by the way, has been attempted.”</p><p>“He’s very hard to kill,” Severus added snidely, nosing at his hair. “My god you smell good.”</p><p>Minerva turned red. “But - Severus. How long have you two…? Did you - were you…?”</p><p>“Were we involved while he was in school?” Severus sneered. “Of course not. What do you think I am, an idiot?” Harry burst out laughing. “Also, I resign. Good day.” He moved to close the door, but Minerva inserted her foot into the crack. </p><p>“And what of Mr. Malfoy, honorable Headmaster?” she hissed, bracing one hand on the door to lean closer to him. “If you’re so<em> loyal </em> and so <em> deeply devoted. </em> What about <em> him?” </em></p><p>“Oh, yes,” Severus shot back. “Tender Draco, who you all worked so hard to <em> protect.” </em></p><p>“Ok,” Harry broke in, holding out his hands. “Stop that. Draco is complicated, and it’s a long story.” He looked at Minerva and frowned. “A story which I <em> know, </em> by the way, so you can stop making that face at me.” Severus’ arm around his waist tightened, and he covered it with his own. “How about this, let me put on some bloody <em> trousers, </em> and eat something, and then I’ll tell you the whole sordid tale, alright? But I’m serious. If you try to separate us, I will explode.”</p><p>“And I assure you, he means that quite literally.”</p><p>Minerva opened her mouth to argue, but then seemed to think better of it and closed it again. “Very well,” she finally said, glaring at Severus one more time. “I expect you two at dinner, then. And afterwards, a meeting.”</p><p>“Is that really what it’ll take for you to leave us alone? You want to drag him to the <em> Great Hall?” </em> Severus asked, but Minerva just stared him down.</p><p>“What time is dinner?” Harry asked.</p><p>“Oh, in about thirty minutes,” Slughorn answered, checking his pocket watch.</p><p><em> “Half an hour?” </em> Harry complained. “Fucking <em> hell.” </em></p><p>“Fine,” Severus said. “Just so you go, now.” Minerva nodded, and removed her foot, and Severus slammed the door in their faces before anyone could say another word. Then he turned around to look at Harry. “What do you mean you <em> died?” </em>he demanded.</p><p>“Oh, um…” Harry shifted back, apparently in response to his expression, and Severus pursued him until he was up against the wall. “It was only for a bit. You - you called me back. And… now I’m… fine.”</p><p><em> “What?” </em> Severus pinned him with one fist in his shirt, trying to ignore the little gasp that came out of him, and how <em> pink </em> he was, and how fucking <em> edible </em> he looked <em> . </em>He wanted to hear the answer to that question, and he was not going to be deflected. At least… not immediately.</p><p>“I got hit with the killing curse, like I said,” Harry squeaked. “And everything went black, and I was sort of… inside my magic, and Dumbeldore was there - or I imagined him - or something - and he said that if I didn’t want to come back I didn’t have to. But then I got your message.” He held up his left arm. “You said to come back if I could, and that was it. I was back in the clearing.”</p><p>“I…?” Abruptly, Severus was filled with such paralyzing relief that he could not speak. Harry hadn’t <em>almost </em>died. Harry hadn’t deflected the curse, or used some unheard of magic to purge the shard. He’d needed to die to destroy the fragment of soul inside him, and so he had. He’d DIED. And Severus had asked for him back, and he’d obeyed. And now here he was, in Severus’ rooms, wearing his shirt, and cursing at the rest of the staff. Here he was, alive, and lovely, and saying things like <em>committed </em>and <em>in love </em>and <em>drag me out as a corpse. </em>And… here he was, up against the wall. In Severus’ room. With no trousers on. </p><p>He crushed their mouths together. It was the only thing he could think of that could express the depth of his relief - the intensity of his <em> need - </em>and Harry melted between his body and the wall like candle wax. </p><p>“You mad creature, I love you,” Severus growled, kissing him again, twisting one hand into his hair to tilt his head, to kiss him deeper, <em> harder, </em> and Harry moaned into his mouth and his knees went weak. <em> “God, </em> I love you. You - incredible <em> - lunatic.” </em> He started manhandling Harry away from the wall and towards the bedroom. “I’d like to fuck you now. Yes?”</p><p>“Yes, please,” Harry breathed, and then yelped as Severus yanked the borrowed shirt over his head and tossed him bodily onto the mattress. “I take it you missed me?”</p><p><em> “Missed </em> you?” Severus demanded, shrugging his dressing gown onto the floor and crawling over him. “I’ve been losing my <em> mind.” </em> He pinned Harry down and leaned over to bite at his neck. “Have you <em> any idea </em> how long it’s been since I’ve had you in my bed?”</p><p>“Ten - ah - ten months,” Harry answered, tipping his head back to allow him better access. </p><p>“Ten months and three days,” Severus answered, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the soft underside of his jaw. “Not including today.” He bit down again, a little harder, and Harry gasped and arched up.</p><p>“Were you - counting?” </p><p>“What an insulting question. Of course I was counting. What do you take me for?” He slid one knee between Harry’s thighs to give him something to press against, and press he did. He was hard as steel already, and burning hot, and he rubbed up against Severus’ leg with no hesitation at all. No shame, no reservation. Just <em> passion. </em> Just passion and raw fucking <em> power, </em> and Lord in Heaven, had Severus thought he knew what <em> wanting Harry </em> felt like? He hadn't. But he knew now, didn’t he? The <em> thirst. </em>“How many days since the night on the beach?” he asked, shifting his weight forward to rut into the crease of Harry’s hip. </p><p>“W-what?” Harry asked back, and Severus took hold of his jaw. </p><p>“I said: How many <em> days </em> since I had you on the <em> beach, </em> Potter?” he repeated, and Harry’s hips jerked up like he couldn’t help it.  </p><p>“Fuck, I - I - dunno,” he said. “A month?”</p><p>Severus released his jaw, snaking one hand between them. “Thirty-nine days,” he corrected, finding Harry’s cock and giving it a little squeeze. Harry whined and clutched at him. “That was the last time I saw you come. Though I did see it three times, of course.” The <em> ghost hands </em> didn’t count. Severus had nearly gone mad knowing that Harry was getting off in a fucking <em> bathroom </em> somewhere while being unable to see or hear him. Absolute <em> torture. </em> This was going to be much, much better. “And I’m going to see it right now, too.” Harry sounded pretty close already, actually, and he moved his hand a little faster, practically <em> salivating </em> at the sounds coming out of him. But then Harry tensed up like he was trying to hold it back.</p><p>“Wait,” he choked out. “Stop - I don’t want to come yet - I want you to fuck me. I want to-” Severus clapped a hand over his mouth, and did not stop.</p><p>“Don’t rush me,” he growled, and Harry’s cock twitched in his hand, his eyes going momentarily glassy. “I’m going to break you open, so fucking let me. Yes?” Harry nodded very obediently under his palm, so Severus took his hand away and replaced it with his mouth, and proceeded to kiss him until he felt a bead of precome well up and smear against his thumb. “Oh, yes, that’s perfect,” he murmured, pulling back to look down at him. “You’re so <em> perfect.” </em> He tightened his fingers and Harry thrust up as much as he could manage, and that was perfect, too. “You’re going to spill in my hand, my love,” Severus continued in a low voice, eyes trained on Harry’s face. “And I’m going to watch. And once you’re done - once you’re nice and limp, I’m going to fuck you, and mark you, and get you off again. And then I’m going to pump you full of my come, and I’m going to escort you down to this daft dinner, and hold your hand, and pull out your chair, and you’re going to try so hard to sit down like you aren’t <em> aching </em> from what I’ve done to you.” He twisted his hand, and Harry’s head curled up off the pillow with a thin cry. “And we’re going to be so incredibly <em> late. </em>Absolutely everyone is going to know. What color is that?”</p><p>“Fuck - <em> green,” </em> Harry gasped, and dropped his head back, bucking up into Severus’ fist, his thigh pressing up against Severus’ cock where it was trapped between them. “God, you’re so <em> hard. </em> FUCK I’ve been waiting <em> so long, </em> Severus <em> please - </em> Just - <em> anything </em> - whatever you want - <em> please -” </em></p><p>“Whatever I want? How precious.” Severus gave him one more squeeze and then took his hand away, and Harry whined in protest, but then his protest died as he watched Severus lick the precome from his fingers. His pupils dilated visibly. Like he was <em> drugged. </em>“Mm,” Severus murmured. “How I’ve missed that taste.”</p><p>“Jesus christ,” Harry breathed. “I’m not gonna last - two seconds.”</p><p>“Good,” Severus answered, and braced one hand beside Harry’s head, pressing his tongue into his mouth and putting his hand back to work. He began to stroke him in earnest, his fingers slick with saliva, and Harry whimpered desperately into his mouth, and Severus broke the kiss at once to allow him more… freedom of expression. “Go on,” he said, nosing at his ear. “I want to hear you fall apart. Let me hear it.” He sealed his mouth onto Harry’s neck, sucking blood to the surface, and Harry’s feet dug into the bedclothes, and yes, this was much better than just <em> imagining </em> Harry’s voice from afar. </p><p>“Oh god - Oh <em>god</em> - ” Harry moaned, and Severus bit down on the mark he was making, luxuriating in the intense body heat radiating off of him. “Oh - I’m gonna - <em>f-fuck - oh- </em>Severus - <em>Severus-” </em></p><p>“Oh <em> yes,” </em> Severus growled. “Say my name. <em> Scream it. </em> The whole castle could hear you and no one would be able to do a single fucking thing about it. You saw how they backed down from you. You fucking <em> holy artifact. No one </em> can take you from me now.”</p><p><em> “Severus - Severus - please -” </em>Harry whined, and Severus bit down again, sinking his teeth in hard, and that was it. Harry's fingernails dug into his back, and his spine curled in, and his release pulsed out over Severus’ fingers in a series of hot, shuddering spurts. And God, the sound that came out of him was enough to make Severus’ cock throb painfully where it was pressed into Harry’s trembling thigh.</p><p>“I could listen to that forever,” Severus murmured as Harry shook and twitched underneath him, and then finally, finally went slack. “Oh, there you are,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “What a good boy.” </p><p><em> “Fuck,” </em> Harry panted, his hands falling limply back to the bed. “That’s way better than <em> ghost hands.” </em></p><p>Severus laughed gently. “I was just thinking that.”</p><p>“Are you gonna fuck me now?” Harry asked breathlessly, and Severus moved to kiss the edge of his jaw.</p><p>“Would you like me to?”</p><p>“Uh… yes?” Harry answered, sounding a little annoyed. “What kind of fucking question is that?” </p><p>“A real one.” Severus kissed the corner of his mouth. “You haven’t eaten, and I know you’re still exhausted. I can wait. What are a few hours after thirty-nine days, hm?”</p><p>“I don’t want you to wait,” Harry answered back, turning his head a little to catch Severus’ lips with his own. “I want your <em> cock.” </em> Severus’ hips twitched forward against Harry’s leg of their own accord and Harry gasped. “Yeah, that,” he said, sliding his hands down Severus’ chest. “That’s what I want. I want your cock. Inside me. Right now.”</p><p>Severus reached out to summon his wand. “You are an excellent negoti- oh.” He hadn’t been expecting a second wand, and in his surprise, he caught neither, and Harry laughed at him. </p><p>“Haa. Master of the Elder Wand. Which one are you gonna use to fuck me?” He wiggled impatiently. “Your old wand, or the spoils of war? Bloody Dark Lord’s unbeatable wand. Didn’t do him much g-” He stopped laughing, and Severus looked down at him to see his playful expression grow suddenly serious. “He’s… dead,” Harry said slowly. “You killed him. For me.”</p><p>“Yes I did,” Severus answered, selecting his old wand and sweeping the Elder Wand onto the floor. He didn’t much like the idea of anything that had been in the Dark Lord’s hand being anywhere near Harry’s body. “But I didn’t just kill him. He was defenseless. I <em> executed </em> him.” He touched his wand to Harry’s skin, spoke the incantation, and then set it aside, reaching down between his legs. “Tell me,” he continued. “Did it frighten you?” He slid his fingers against Harry’s slick skin, but gently - just touching him. “My brutality.”</p><p>“No,” Harry whispered, spreading his legs.</p><p>“No?” He circled his fingers once around his entrance, and then pressed just enough to breach the ring of muscle with a single fingertip. “I can be quite vicious.<em> Violent.” </em> He slid in a little further, to the first knuckle, and flicked his eyes up to watch the rapturous look on Harry’s face. “I think maybe you didn’t know just <em> how </em>violent, though.”</p><p>“Fuck - <em> Severus - more,” </em> Harry gasped. <em> “More.” </em></p><p>“As you wish.” Severus added a second finger, feeling Harry’s body grip at him, and began to thrust them in and out, slow and easy. “I’d kill him again if I could. I’d kill him for you a hundred times, in a hundred horrible ways. Torture him to death for laying hands on you.” </p><p>Harry seized his shoulders, lifting his hips to try to get more. “My - avenging angel,” he said, shivering as Severus scissored his fingers and added a third. </p><p>“That’s right,” Severus murmured, enjoying the frustrated whine that forced itself out of Harry’s mouth as he brushed across his prostate with the lightest possible pressure. “I’m your <em> shadow, </em> cutting down your enemies, leaving them broken, and bleeding, and wishing they’d never dared cross you.”</p><p>“Severus - <em> fuck me. </em> I’m ready - <em> please.” </em></p><p>“Oh, I will,” Severus answered, thrusting his fingers rhythmically, dipping his head to kiss Harry’s chest, and collarbone, and temple. “When <em> I’m </em>ready.” He curled his fingers again, stroking against Harry’s prostate more firmly, and Harry turned his face away with a cry.</p><p><em>“Please - please, Severus </em>for the love of<em> god-” </em>he moaned. <em>“Please please please-”</em></p><p>“Mm,” Severus murmured, withdrawing his fingers at last. “You’re lucky we’ve somewhere to be, tonight. I’d like to keep you like this for <em> days. </em> Just perfectly desperate, laid out on my sheets. Begging and pleading and saying my name like you’re trying to <em> pray.” </em> He slicked himself with the lubricant left on his fingers and lined himself up, but moved no further. “You want my cock?” he asked. “Is that what you want?” He was feeling pretty ruthless. Must be the residual battle-fury.</p><p> “<em>Yes,” </em> Harry gasped<em>. </em> “I want it - I want it - I want your <em> cock - please - fucking - give it to me.” </em></p><p>“Pity I can’t really take my time with you.” He teased against Harry’s hole, and Harry lifted his hips again with a snarling noise, and Severus thought that maybe he wasn’t the only one with some adrenaline to purge. Harry might be having a… specific need. </p><p>“Then <em> fuck me again after the stupid meeting,” </em> Harry demanded. “And tomorrow morning before b-breakfast - oh, <em> yes -” </em> he broke off, squeezing his eyes shut against the stretch as Severus finally began to penetrate him, and then continued as best he could. <em> “God. </em> And - e-evey day for - the rest - of - <em> fuuuck-”  </em></p><p>“Feels good, does it?” Severus breathed, splaying one hand flat on Harry’s chest as he pulsed his hips forward, exhaling very slowly at the sensation of the body underneath him beginning to yield. He was tight, and it was gradual. Slow. Fucking <em> paradise. </em> “Do you like it? Do you want more?” He dragged his hips back and sank them forward, a bit deeper, and then deeper still, and one of Harry’s hands seized the back of his neck.</p><p>“Oh - <em> god - yes,” </em> he moaned. <em> “More-” </em></p><p>“Harder?” Severus asked. “Or shall I peel you apart slowly?” Harry’s nails dug in. </p><p>“Harder,” he whispered, and Severus went still.</p><p>“What was that?” he asked.</p><p><em> “Harder!” </em> Harry threw his head back. <em> “God </em> you sadistic <em> bastard-”  </em></p><p>“Oh, name-calling. How very rude.” Severus snapped his hips forward, just once, and then withdrew almost all the way and went still again. He could feel Harry’s body spasming around him, his muscles fluttering and gripping at him. And Harry was hard again, of course, his cock jutting insistently into Severus’ belly. “I think you want me to hurt you.” he said in a low voice. “Do you?”</p><p>Harry raked his nails down Severus back with a rageful string of profanity, and Severus did it again, one hard thrust, and then nothing at all. </p><p>“I didn’t quite get that,” he said. “Do you want it tender and sweet? Shall I make love to you? Hm?” He nuzzled against Harry’s ear, rocking his hips like he had all the time in the world. Which, of course, he did. And what a thought that was. Just… years and years to spend breaking Harry into tiny little pieces and then putting him back together again, in all kinds of different ways. After dinner, anyway.</p><p>“Severusssss <em> please -” </em> Harry twisted and arched, trying to grind down, trying to lift up, trying to do anything at all to get more. <em> “Please.” </em>Severus bore down hard with the hand on his chest to hold him still.</p><p>“Say it,” he demanded. “Say, <em> ‘hurt me, Severus.’” </em></p><p>“Ah- <em> god,” </em>Harry breathed. “Do you want me to beg?” </p><p>His eyes were hazy and unfocused, and looking down at him like that, Severus felt a rush of sudden euphoria. This was <em> Harry Potter </em> he had in his bed. Harry Potter, who’d blocked fifty deadly curses like they were fruit flies, who’d knocked a building <em> flat, </em> who’d <em> walked straight to his own death, </em> and put Severus to sleep to do it. And here he was, that <em> warrior, </em> on his back, asking, <em> ‘do you want me to beg?’ </em></p><p>And the answer to that question was, <em> ‘no.’ </em></p><p>“I don’t want you to beg,” Severus said, sinking inside him to the base in one long, smooth stroke. “I want you to order me. I want you to tell me exactly what you want, so I can give it to you.” He withdrew, and sank in again. Slow, steady, and Harry whimpered and dropped his head back. “I’ll pull down the stars. I’ll walk straight into the sea,” Severus continued. “I’ll fuck you so hard you feel it for a week, if that’s what you want. Tell me.”</p><p>“Severus-”</p><p>
  <em> “Say it.” </em>
</p><p> Harry lips parted around a sharp inhale, and his body tightened once around Severus’ cock buried inside him, and then he spoke.</p><p> “Hurt me.” His voice was breathless. “I want it to hurt. I want you to - tear me apart.” </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ‘I want you to tear me apart.’ </em>
</p><p>The sense memory called up by those words was intense. Harry’s slender wrists, held tight in his hands. Harry’s lips sliding across his jaw as he turned his face away to say, <em> ‘Merlin, Potter, this isn’t what you need.’  </em></p><p>And the <em> wanting, </em> oh, god, the <em> wanting. </em></p><p> </p><p>Severus seized the headboard. “I should have fucked you the first time you ever said that to me,” he snarled, dragging his hips back and snapping them forward, hard, knocking a sharp yelp out of Harry’s mouth. “Right up against the wall in Number Twelve.” He did it again, ignoring his wound even as it protested his tight grip, slamming into Harry’s body with enough force to wind him. “I should have spent that whole <em> summer </em> fucking you. Just <em> fucked you-” </em> The bedrame hit the wall. <em> “And fucked you again - and - rubbed it in Lupin’s FACE and DARED HIM TO TAKE YOU AWAY.” </em></p><p>Harry cried out, wrapping his arms around Severus’ shoulders to try to anchor himself. <em> “Oh, yes,” </em> he gasped. <em> “More - more-” </em></p><p>“MORE?” Severus demanded, hauling Harry’s hips up onto his thighs and folding him in half, and Harry <em> screamed. </em> And that was good, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would <em> ever </em> be enough. <em> “Louder,” </em>he hissed, taking hold of Harry’s cock. “LOUDER, Harry.” </p><p>He bit down on whatever part of him he could reach, fucking him harder, faster, overriding the fatigue in his body, overriding the pain in his arm, and stomping on his own pleasure. He wasn’t going to come until Harry came again. No way in <em> hell. </em> Harry was going to come again, and he was going to scream again, and Severus was going to <em> make him. </em> Severus was going to <em> rip him open </em> and <em> crawl inside </em> and fucking <em> live there. </em> Severus as going to love him <em> forever, </em> and fuck him like this as many times as he could take it. </p><p>“Come for me,” he breathed, contrasting the brutal fuck and the unforgiving pace of his hand with a sensual, tender tone. “Come for me, love. I want to see it, and I know you want to please me. You’re such a <em> good boy - </em> you’re taking <em> so much </em> - come for me-” Harry clutched at him, sobbing out his name, and Severus released the headboard and seized his hair. “EYES,” he demanded, jerking Harry’s head back, and Harry’s eyes snapped obediently open, and he let out a fearful squeak, and his body contracted hard. </p><p><em> “Severus-” </em> he gasped, curling forward as much as he could against the grip in his hair, his eyes squeezing shut. <em> “Fuck-” </em>He let out a tortured wail, and the bedside tables hurtled against the walls like they’d been knocked aside by a troll.</p><p><em> “Oh, YES,” </em> Severus moaned, losing all rhythm as Harry’s body rippled around him. “GOD <em> I love you, I love you.” </em> He took hold of the headboard again, the sweat on his back stinging a dozen tiny wounds, and pounded into him again and again, and <em> fuck </em>he was so close - he was so - so- </p><p>Harry’s hands sank into his hair, tangled to fists, and through the rush of blood in his ears he heard Harry’s voice in a litany of delicious depravity.</p><p>“Oh <em>yes, </em>Severus -<em> fuck me</em> - <em>fill me up -</em> <em>give it to me - give it to me - yes - yes-”</em></p><p>
  <em> Oh, FUCK listen to THAT- </em>
</p><p>The muscles in his abdomen flexed so violently it felt like a surge of electricity, and he dropped his head forward with a desperate cry, abruptly and completely trapped in a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure. No guilt, no fear, no shame - no <em> pain - </em> just pleasure - just spilling himself in Harry’s willing body, just Harry’s hands in his hair, and Harry’s breath, and voice, and <em> smell, </em> and <em> god, </em> it felt like being wrung dry. He’d been <em> so sure </em> he would never have this again. That he would never so much as <em> look at Harry </em> again - never <em> touch him </em> ever again - let alone hear him say something so fucking <em> filthy-  </em></p><p>The strength left him.</p><p>“Sweet - Merlin,” he panted, letting Harry’s legs slip back to the bed as intense aftershocks kept his body moving, kept him rocking forward and forward even as he could hardly support his own weight. His cock slipped easily in the mess he’d made, and Harry twitched and whimpered underneath him. And that… was very good. “God… I think I - died - in the shack - and I’m - in heaven.” His whole body was tingling, and it took a moment for him to realize that Harry was shaking already. “I… oh.” That was much faster than normal. He hadn’t even pulled out yet. Had he been too rough? “Let me-” He groped for his wand to summon a blanket, but then he saw Harry’s face, and stopped. </p><p>Harry wasn’t <em> shaking, </em> he was <em> giggling. </em>It was just so bloody breathless there wasn’t any sound behind it.</p><p>“What?” Severus asked, frowning at him. “What’s funny?”</p><p>“I b-b-broke your t-tables,” Harry wheezed, Severus’ weight on him preventing him from catching his breath. “S-s-sorry.” Severus looked over to see that his side tables were, indeed, splintered into matchsticks against the far walls. There was some broken glass, too. “S-s-sorry… pfffahahahaaa.” </p><p>“So you have,” Seveus said, propping himself up on his hands, and giving Harry one more gentle thrust before pulling out. That made Harry stop giggling immediately, and he gasped and let out a very endearing breathy little moan. “Quite destructive of you. I suppose it serves me right getting you off so very hard.” </p><p>“Sorry,” Harry repeated. “My magic feels kind of… touchy.” He tried to sit up but seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it and collapsed back down. “Fuuuck.” He threw one arm over his eyes. “You are soooo…” he trailed off. “I love you.”</p><p>“And I, you,” Severus answered, retrieving his wand. He cast a flurry of cleaning charms over Harry, the bedspread, and his own body, and lay back down. Then he looked over at Harry, panting, and pink, with his arm over his face. “Color?” he asked. </p><p>“Oh,” Harry murmured. “Um… Gold?”</p><p>
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</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>End of Part 4</p><p>(click next for chapter for art)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well, dear readers, all good things must come to an end.</p><p>NOT THIS THO!!!</p><p>Stay tuned for PACIFY PART 5: SAFETY</p><p>Also, there is now a Discord server specifically for screaming about this, so if you want to scream about it, click here: https://discord.gg/HWUJRB</p><p>(if the link is expired just @ me)</p><p>Official Playlist:<br/>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0rf51eMOz60O5WLQLlJJ40?si=P938njrgTYqTg13AK1GRwA</p><p>Fan Playlist (have a song to ad? Sweet):<br/>https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7zhyYvc1mfs6T3eJdQVVNS?si=V1z26FRMTy6UUU6GFILhxg</p><p>my Pacify doodles:<br/>https://www.deviantart.com/chickenpets</p><p>See you on the other side!!!<br/>~Chickenpets</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Bonus Art Page: Finally Together</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finally, after all, to have you in my arms.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Bonus Art Page 2: No One Will Take You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Not ever again.</p>
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  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775189">Always Watching</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff">danpuff</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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